


Spoondrift

by Celestial_Caster



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Mermaids, Alternate Universe - Pirate, Angst, Curses, Galra Empire, Keith's just here for the weapons, M/M, Merman! Lance, Minor Hunk/Shay (Voltron), Nokken Lance, Pirate! Keith, Witch Curses, basically everyone is a pirate except for Lance, implied shallura, pirate ship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-01
Updated: 2018-03-31
Packaged: 2019-01-27 00:12:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 16
Words: 111,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12569332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Celestial_Caster/pseuds/Celestial_Caster
Summary: When Lance is captured by a cursed pirate captain, he can't say he's happy about it. He's spent his whole life being told that humans, especially pirates, are evil. Bound by his own curse activated by his capture, Lance is sure nothing good will come of this situation. However, he can't deny that there's a certain draw to the crew aboard the Red Lion. Or maybe there's a certain draw about a particular mulleted captain who's way in over his head.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm back from the dead, just in time for Halloween! (*sweats because I promised this fic in september/october*)
> 
> New name, new fic, let's get this show on the road. It looks like a long one guys. 
> 
> A HUGE thank you to Holden for doing the art! He wanted an excuse to force himself into using his tablet, so I gave him this monster of a fic. Give him some love at [Saltwater-paladin](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/saltwater-paladin)

 

Keith stumbled forward, struggling to catch his breath. An arrow whizzed past his ear, taking strands of hair with it. His hand instinctively jerked up to touch his ear, and came away slightly bloody. Keith cursed under his breath as he crashed through the thicket. He could hear shouting behind him as his pursuers loudly forced their way across the island.

Pushing away a large tropical plant, he finally stumbled onto something that resembled a path that he didn’t have to carve himself. He ran down the path, and then rolled under the brush, trying to lose his pursuers.

For a moment, Keith laid perfectly still. His muscles were tense, and he held his breath. A fly landed on his arm, the hair of its feelers tickling his arm, but even still, he made no movement. A second later, many pairs of heavy leather boots stormed down the pathway.

“He went this way! If he thinks he can use the main path to hide his tracks, he has another thing coming to him,” One of the men called.

“If we don’t catch him here, we’ll bring out the dogs! That sea rat has one sweet bounty over his head!” Another replied, his voice becoming distant as they carried on down the path.

Keith didn’t dare breathe. He waited as the wind whistled above him and the leaves on the trees swayed and the fly buzzed in his ear and the waves crashed against the distant shore of the sea he had began to call home. When his blood calmed and he was sure that he was safe, he rolled out of the brush, in the opposite direction of the path, back towards the sea.

Pushing his way through the lush vegetation on the island, Keith flew through the leaves as quickly as he dared. The ground was cluttered with thick tree roots, brambles, and other plants. At one point, Keith came along a snake who was trapped behind the brush because it was so thick. Keith glanced around, making sure the coast was clear before he bent down and broke away a small bit of the brush to allow the snake out. The snake slithered out, flashing his fangs in either a thank you or a small warning. Possibly both.

Although he couldn’t see the ocean, he could hear its roar, and it was growing closer with every step he took. Excitement and relief bubbled in his chest as the sea called to him. He needed to make it back to his ship. The crew would be upset that he hadn’t found any supplies, but it was just a scouting mission after all. Now at least they knew the Galra had been hiding in the bay, hidden from the ship’s view.

Suddenly, the trees parted and the blue sky touched the horizon of the bluer sea. Keith jumped over a bush, the brambles snagging on the bottom of his trousers. His boots made an impression in the ground as the dirt turned to sand. In his distraction, he stopped paying attention to his footing and tripped over a particularly large tree root. He tried to catch himself, but his knees crumpled under him and he found himself face first in the sand.

He spit the grit out of his mouth, trying to ignore the burn of sand in the wound on his leg where an arrow had caught him when the Galra first ambushed him. Sand was in his hair and he shook his head, trying to shake the sand away before it had the chance to fall in his eyes and burn like the eternal fires of seven hells.

In the distance, he could hear the barking of dogs. Damn. It wouldn’t be long before the dogs were on his trail. If he could just get back to the part of the beach where his crew was waiting with the ship. He would have to make fast work of it though. He couldn’t imagine it would be long before the dogs were finding his ship.

Scrambling to his feet, Keith tromped over the honey colored sand, his boots struggling to remain above the surface. His knee threatened to give way as he climbed over some rocks lining the shore. When he clambered over the stones, he stopped in his tracks, surprised that he was no longer alone.

A young man sat propped against a rock a few dozen feet away from where Keith was sat. Horses stood at leisure behind him, some of them grazing on the grass that sparsely populated the ground, others trotting joyously in the waves. They looked like they were born from the waves themselves, gray and white, manes flowing as free as the water.

Keith turned his attention back to the boy, who had yet to notice him. His heart caught in his throat. The boy had umber skin, with darker hair that circled his ears and rested on his forehead in close cropped bangs. His body was held with grace and poise that made him undeniably beautiful. But the part that actually caught Keith’s attention was the boy’s legs-or lack thereof. Instead of two legs like the ones Keith had, the young man’s torso tapered off into a long, solid tail, a rich midnight blue that trailed off into the sea and shone in the sunlight.

From the forest that Keith had just abandoned, several dog’s barks echoed between the trees. Startling from his stupor, Keith tumbled over the rock he was leaning on. His sudden movement caught the attention of the boy and his blue eyes flashed towards Keith, trying to assess any danger Keith might pose. His pointed, webbed ears twitched towards him.

He looked just as surprised as Keith had been, his thin lips parted in shock, ocean eyes rounder than the moon. His eyes traveled over Keith’s body, from his face to his boots, and then back up to his face.

“That’s a pretty strong curse you have there.” The boy noted.

Keith froze and for a moment he wasn't sure if it was because of the boy’s voice ringing in his ears or because of the fact that he knew something only two people knew of, one of them being himself. The boy’s tail splashed in the water impatiently.

“What? How-” He sputtered.

“How do I know that?” The boy asked, raising an eyebrow. He shrugged, the curve of his bare shoulders hunching upwards towards his delicate chin. “It’s easy for one blessed with the power of the Goddess to see. That blackened curse is hanging over your body and eating away at your soul. If you don't do something soon, you’ll die.”

Dogs howled, much too close. They must have caught his scent by now. They would be on him soon if he didn’t leave. Keith grit his teeth.

“If I don't do something, I’ll die anyway.” He replied.

“That’s for sure,” the boy snorted. He looked like he was going to say something else, but he never had a chance before the tranquility of the beach was shattered.

When Keith heard the sound of the bow’s string snapping back after the release of the arrow, he instinctively ducked and rolled out of the way. Instead of hitting its intended target, the arrow zoomed over the rocks and landed in the hind of one of the horses that was elegantly standing in the sand.

Startled by the shock of pain, the horse reared up, standing on it’s haunches and pawing the air with it’s front legs. Blood trickled down its flank.

“Woah! Woah, girl!” The boy cried, raising his hands towards the horse even though he wasn't physically capable of stopping the horse without legs.

It turned out that he didn't need legs though. When he spoke, the horse landed on the ground and despite breathing heavily, seemed to remain calm. In fact, the way the boy had spoken had drawn a certain calmness over Keith as well, like a blanket pulled over him in the winter.

With his new found rationality, Keith turned around to face his assailants. A hoard of heavily armored men drew themselves from the forest, with dogs ripping at their leads for a chance to get their prey.

He unsheathed his sword from his belt. Sharper than wit and freshly polished, it shone in the sun like a row of diamonds around a rich girl’s neck.

“Are you crazy?” The merman said from behind him. He sat on the sand, still trying to comfort his wounded horse. “There’s a whole squadron of men there!”

“Not a squadron.” Keith said, with an ill-fit grin. “An entire ship’s worth.”

Galra men rushed at him, and Keith twirled, hacking and slashing anyone who dared to come close to him. Archers shot from afar, but most of them landed harmlessly in the sand, because Keith was fueled by the will to fight and moved too quickly for any of them to catch him.

Instead of letting the arrows catch him, he let the moment do it instead. Time seemed to slow as metal clashed against metal, blade cut into the slots of armor, and blood flew through the air. His skin burned as some of the men sliced it open, but that burn only served to fuel the fire of his fight. The rush of fighting overtook him and he stopped paying attention to anything except the enemies coming at him with the intention of slitting his throat with their own blades.

Horses ran around him, plowing into some of the Galra men that surrounded him and trampled them into the sand.

It wasn't until the screaming started that Keith snapped out of his violent haze. Slamming the butt of his sword into a man’s head, causing him to fall, Keith turned to find the source. The merboy wailed, his voice high and emotional, but it did little to stop the men around him.

Several of the horses lay dead or severely wounded on the beach. The crystal blue waters were muddied with the rusty colour of fresh blood.

Now that Keith had been broken from the trance of battle, he felt the tiredness seep into his bones, pain running through his blood, stabbing at every one of his joints. He sank to his knees, sand covering his trousers. He grit his teeth, trying to ignore the feeling and muster up the strength.

“How dare you,” the boy said, his eyes glowing an intense blue. His hands were clenched and his tail whipped wildly. Now that it was above the water, Keith could see the tail, while beautiful and elegant, was sharp looking and pointed at the ends, like knives waiting to strike. The boy, who had seemed so calm a few minutes ago, merely watching the horses galavant across the coast, looked positively dangerous now. Even Keith felt a pang of fear stab his heart.

“They attacked us!” One man cried weakly. The boy ignored him.

“You trespass onto sacred land and scare sacred horses, and then murder them. How dare you destroy the sacred land of the Goddess?” He thundered. “How dare you destroy my _home_?”

The waves crashed around him, no longer passively lapping against the shore. They were loud, and they worked to make a point.

The Galran men stood in shock for a moment, clearly not knowing what to make of this merboy threatening them. They were taken aback, shivering with the force of the boy's presence.

“I’m the prince of the merfolk. Leave.” The boy commanded.

Then, in a move of either incredible boldness or incredible stupidity, one of the Galran men lifted his crossbow and took aim at the merboy. With the wind guiding it, the arrow flew across the beach, striking the prince in the arm. He screamed in pain, clutching at his shoulder. Rain poured from the sky, furiously pounding on the Galran men.

The boy pulled his hand away from his arm, looking the scarlet blood that painted his palm in a sick fascination. His gaze, filled with even more fury than before, landed on the man who had shot him. The man with the crossbow swallowed heavily, his crossbow falling weakly in his arms.

_“LEAVE!”_ The prince screamed, his voice radiating across the beach. Keith had a feeling it wasn’t just directed at the Galran men. The power of the boy’s voice made him want to get up and leave. The Galran men seemed to be experiencing a similar feeling, as many of them began to back up and retreat.

When Keith looked back to the boy, he was no longer there. In his place, stood a large horse, darker than all the others. The horse was a deep, rich brown color, and he stood regally above all the others, exuding power and confidence. An arrow stuck out of it’s front shoulder, blood matting the fur around the wound.

He reared, extending his length even farther, before charging the Galran men. Most scattered, fearful of the wild animal, but the one who had shot was arrow was paralyzed with fear. All he could do was watch with wide eyes as the horse plowed into him, knocking him to the ground and trampling him. His crossbow lay broken on the ground, his body still.

The men around him eyed the trodden body with a particular awe and then looked up at the horse, who towered above them, prancing in the sand despite his wound. In unison, the men raised their weapons, but the horse merely snorted, pawing the ground, daring them to challenge him.

They released their arrows, and the horse dodged several of them. However, despite his grace and agility, he was still heavily outnumbered. The men calculated his movements, a swerve to the left and then back to the right, and planned for it with the next arrow they set. This time, they didn’t miss. Several arrows punctuated his body, landing in his flank, shoulder, and his leg. He screamed in pain, and it sounded more human than horse.

The horse charged at the group, sand flying in his wake, and they all scrambled to get out his path of rage. He bowled into several, slamming them into the sea with his hooves and holding them there as the life seeped from their throats to be carried away by the waves.

A movement caught Keith’s eye. From the forest, a masked Galran man had appeared. He carried a spear and crept towards the enraged horse like a hunter hunting his prey. Unlike all the other Galra, his clothes were a more faded color, better suited to blending in with the yellows, browns, grays and blues surrounding them. With the horse’s attention on the men he was busy drowning, he didn’t notice the camouflaged man sneaking towards him. The man raised his spear, ready to strike the horse from behind.

“No!” Keith cried.

Startled by the sound of his voice, the horse whipped around. With a strong kick, he pushed the attacker down, but not in time to avoid the spear glancing across the skin of his belly. The horse began to tremble and change shape. His back legs condensed into one, long midnight blue tail, his forelegs becoming two skinny arms, and the deep brown of his mane shortened to the close cropped hair of the merboy from before.

The merboy panted on the sand, gasping for air, his tail just reaching the water’s edge, enough for him to slap it. All his wounds remained, arrows sticking out of his shoulder, tail, and side. A long, angry red horizontal line ran along his smooth almond colored torso.

The man, still alive, grappled for his spear and tried to thrust it at the boy again. However, he was severely wounded from being kicked by the boy’s horse form and couldn’t move fast enough to avoid the boy’s attack. Similar to the snake from earlier, the merboy revealed some sharp teeth and lunged forward at the man. With one hand, he pushed away the arm that was swinging the spear as his teeth made contact with the man’s throat. The man gurgled for a second before slumping into the sand, and the prince pulled back, blood dribbling down his chin.

A shiver of horror ran through Keith’s veins as the boy released his jaw from around the man’s throat and leaned back to wipe the blood from his face, ineffectively cleaning it from his face and smearing it on his arm. He collapsed next to the Galran man’s body, pushing his cheek into the sand as his chest heaved.

Seeing the feral merboy weakened and lying on the ground, the remaining Galra saw their chance.

“Seize him!” One of the Galra yelled, pointing at the merboy. “He killed the captain!”

One of the men produced a large net from their supply pack and together the team unfolded it. They crept towards the mer, cautious in case he lunged at them like he had done with their captain. The boy glared at them from his position in the sand, but made no effort to move. They threw the net over him and he made a small noise that forced them to hesitate.

Keith seized his own opportunity.

He stood shakily, unsheathed his sword and lunged forwards, just into the midst of where the Galran men were huddled around the merboy. Stabbing his sword into the slits between the armor plates, he stared into the eyes of one of the Galra holding the net.

“It’s me you came here for.”

“True,” the Galra sneered, “but we’ll be paid handsomely for bringing in the nation’s most wanted pirate _and_ one of the merfolk.”

He drew his own sword, handing the net to one of the younger hunters. He advanced on Keith, but he blocked the strike with a parry.

With a yell, Keith swung his sword, slashing open the man’s leg. Blood spurted, but the man pushed forward. He lashed at Keith, slicing his arm in what was sure to be a nasty scar later on.

Metal chimed as they struck blows again. Finally, Keith struck with his sword again, metal cutting into flesh, knocking the man to the ground.

His lungs heaved for air, nose whistling with the little he had left, until his body finally shut down.

In the net, the boy was struggling to pull it off of him. The net had been tied by the men who had captured him and his sharp nails weren’t good enough to cut through the thick ropes hardened by water. His gills heaved, looking for water as he began to dry out, and the blood around his wounds was starting to crust over.

Keith stepped towards him and the boy flashed his ears at him in warning.

“Stay away from me.” He growled.

“I want to help you.” Keith said. He took a step towards the merboy.

“No!” The boy admonished. “I don’t want your help!”

Once again, his voice rang in Keith’s head, making him sway slightly. It was so pretty sounding, full of emotion. It made Keith want to listen to him. But at the same time, when he looked at the merman, he could see the many arrows he had suffered because of Keith, the tears that tracked down his dark cheeks. The loudest thing of all wasn’t the merman’s voice, it was his ocean blue eyes that pleaded for the opposite of what his voice said.

He shook the fog from his head, taking another hesitant step forwards. The boy reeled backwards in the net, as far away from Keith as he could possibly get.

“No,” he said, trying to channel power into his voice.

Keith hesitated, but in his daze felt his hand reach for the knife at his waist.

“No,” the prince said again, but this time it was a mere whimper as Keith towered above him. In seconds, Keith had sliced through the ropes. The boy let out a wail that cut like a blade thorough Keith. The haziness in his head was gone, and he watched in horror as the boy pulled out one of the arrows that was stuck in his side. He bleated in pain, but shakily brandished the arrow at Keith.

“You idiot!” Keith cried. “Now you’ve opened the wound more!”

With his free hand, the boy cradled his ribcage, but he remained resolute in his fierce stance.

“I won’t allow you to capture me.” He growled, flicking his tail in Keith’s direction.

Keith scrunched his face in confusion. “I don’t want to capture you. I’m not with the men who captured you.”

The prince didn’t drop his bloodied arrow. “All men are the same,” He sneered. “I won’t be captured.”

  

Keith drummed his fingers on his arm. There had to be some way to get the merman to trust him. If those wounds weren’t properly taken care of, he wouldn’t survive.

He crouched in the sand, lowering himself so he was at the merman’s level rather than standing over him. He offered a hand to the merman, who was draped in the remains of the net and still looked adamant about stabbing him.

“My name is Keith.” He said. “What’s your name?”

The boy eyed him warily and his ears twitched again.

“Lance.” He said finally.

“Lance,” Keith repeated, feeling the name of his tongue. “I want to heal your wounds. There’s medical supplies on my ship.”

Lance shook his head vigorously, the blue jewels dangling from his ears following the movement. “No ships.”

Keith huffed. He didn’t have even the basics on him here, if he was going to heal the merman, he would need the supplies on the ship. He didn’t want to just leave the boy alone either, who knew what would happen to him then. He was clearly too exhausted and hurt to defend himself anymore. It was possible the Galra had reinforcement forces.

“Can I take you to my ship? You wouldn’t have to get aboard, I can have my crew bring the supplies.” Keith compromised.

Lance fingered the edges of the open wound across his belly, looking at the arrow stuck in his tail. Slowly, he nodded, his eyes still poisoned with distrust.

Keith moved forward, and slowly slid one hand behind the Lance’s back and the other under his tail. Lance flinched, but made no protest. When Keith lifted him up, he gasped as pain shot through his body, but he wrapped his tail around Keith.

Lance was heavier than he expected. Keith stumbled forward, trying to adjust to the weight of Lance, and the constriction of his tail around his waist. Stupid curse, sapping all his energy. He wished he could curse his curse. He readjusted Lance in his arms, and they began to pick their way along the coastline to where Keith knew his ship to be.

He could feel Lance’s blood seeping into his shirt and after a few minutes of walking along the sea, Lance rested his face in the crook of Keith neck. Keith nearly dropped him in surprise, but he began to walk faster. If the boy he could barely convince to come with him was taking comfort in bodily contact with him, it must be getting pretty bad.

Soon, the regal outline of the _Red Lion_ came into view. Her sails were as white as the clouds, her bow painted with a sleek coat of red. From the main mast, a black flag flew with a lion’s face painted on it. Keith had never been happier to see her. Even before she had come to be the _Red Lion_ , Keith had loved her. He had never felt more at home than on that ship while sailing the sea.

The silhouettes of two people leaned over her rails, and when they saw Keith struggling to hold Lance, they shot up and disappeared from view. A moment later, the ship’s ramp lowered itself to the shore.

Keith collapsed to his knees at the end of the ramp, his pants soaking up the sea. Considering they were already stained with blood and dirt, he couldn’t bring himself to care. Lance laid in the shallow waters, his gills greedily sucking in the water they could get, filtering out the dirt.

“Keith! Are you okay? What happened?” A small impish person bounded down the ramp, followed by the hulking form of another. When Pidge was a few feet from the end of the ramp, he froze in his tracks, his eyes widening. The larger boy, Hunk, leaned forwards to peer at the scene in front of the two.

“Is that a mermaid?” Hunk asked, his eyes going round.

“Merman,” Keith corrected. He shook Lance’s shoulder, but the boy laid still except for the motions of his gills and the brief fluttering of his eyelashes.

“You show up with a merman and you’re both covered in blood? What in seven hells happened?” Pidge asked.

“The Galra are here.” Keith said darkly. Pidge and Hunk visibly stiffened.

Hunk looked around nervously. “Where? We need to leave now!”

Keith shook his head. “Lance needs medical attention. He won’t board the ship.”

“Lance?” Pidge asked, quirking an eyebrow at Keith.

“Yes, Pidge. Lance.” Keith said dryly. “He has a name y’know.”

“Sorry, I just didn’t know we were all on a first name basis with one of the merfolk.”

Hunk moved to crouch next to Lance and looked over his wounds. He grimaced and shook his head.

“I can’t heal these here.” He looked up at Keith. “We’ll have to move him inside.”

“He refuses to board the ship.”

“If we’re going to heal him, he doesn’t have a choice. I can’t sterilize the wounds while he’s lying on the ground like this and it’s possible that he may have lost too much blood. I’m not a doctor, I only know the basics. I’m not even sure how much I can do for him, especially since there’s not a lot of information on merfolk out there.” Hunk explained.

Keith looked back down at Lance, whose eyes were clenched shut, his entire body, once a weapon to be reckoned with, now limp. Theoretically, he would only be on the ship for a few minutes and then he could return home, so it shouldn’t be a problem.

“Help me carry him.” Keith said. Together, they lifted the mer up. Keith held him under the arms and Hunk carried his tail, which now dragged on the ground, too weak to hold itself up.

“Pidge, keep watch and let us know if you see anything,” Keith said as they struggled to carry Lance into the medical bay on the ship. Pidge saluted and then scrambled up to the crow’s nest to keep an eye on the surroundings.

The medical bay was a relatively small room, mostly used as storage for medications and first aid supplies. There was a table in the center of the room for emergencies, which is where Hunk and Keith laid Lance down. His tail was too long to fit on the table, so the boys had to be careful to step over it.

Keith lingered as Hunk examined the wounds. He addressed the two open wounds first, the cut across Lance’s stomach and the place in his side where he had pulled out the arrow.

“The wound on his stomach is relatively shallow, but this wound on his side is pretty bad. What happened?” Hunk asked.

“One of the Galra cut him with a spear and then he was shot with several of their arrows. He pulled one out to threaten me with, though.” Keith replied, gesturing to the gaping hole on his side.

Hunk hummed, focused on disinfecting the spear wound and dressing it in white gauze. Lance’s body flinched with his touch. Hunk leaned down to look closely at one of the arrows.

“He made this arrow wound worse by pulling it out. These arrows look like they’re made for hunting, so they’re not meant to come out without damage.”

“What about the other arrows? Can you get them out?”

“I’ll have to cut around each of them. Will you help me?”

Keith was happy to have an excuse to stay with the mysterious merboy, so he nodded.

Hunk wiped the arrow wound in his side clean with water and then disinfected it. He pulled some needle and string out of a cabinet on the wall. Threading the needle, he slowly stitched the worst of the wound together.

“Get me the Notoginseng, Keith.”

Keith opened the cabinet Hunk had been in before and was met with a variety of labelled bottles. He had to read every label because unlike Hunk, he couldn't tell what a herb was just by sight and smell. It was okay though, because Guess the Herb was always more fun to play when most of them were bad at it.

Finally, Keith found a small vial labelled ‘Notoginseng’ and he mixed the green powder it into a tea for Hunk.

“Hold his head up.” Hunk instructed, taking the tea from Keith.

Keith slipped his hands under Lance, using one to support his head while also pushing him upwards.

Hunk brought the tea to Lance’s lips and forced it down his throat. Lance didn't open his eyes, but he swallowed the tea compliantly.

“That should reduce his bleeding when he take these other arrows out.” Hunk explained.

Hunk moved towards the two arrows in Lance’s shoulder.

“Hold him down, Keith. This part’s going to hurt.”

Keith pressed his hands against Lance’s chest, putting all his weight on pressing Lance into the table. Hunk took a small knife and started to cut around the arrow. Lance cried out, his eyes fluttering before closing again. Keith held him steady. Hunk extracted one arrow, and then after minute, the other.

“Some yarrow, please, Keith.”

Inside a vial was a brown, seedy looking powder. Keith handed it to Hunk and watched as he sprinkled it over the wounded areas.

“That will act as a disinfectant and speed up the wounds healing.” Hunk said as he sewed up the cuts.

The last arrow remaining was the one in Lance’s tail. Hunk hesitated before it. He looked up uncertainly at Keith.

“You know I’ve never treated anything like this.”

Keith nodded. “Do your best.”

Hunk pulled out the knife. He has just started to slice around the arrow when Lance screamed in pain. His back arched, fingers clawing the table. Hunk quickly removed the knife as Lance’s tail thrashed, knocking the bandages off the table and almost hitting Hunk.

“Keith, come over here and hold his tail down!”

Keith tried to do that by pressing his hands onto the part of his tail below the wound, but Lance was thrashing and resisting with all his might. His sharp ended tail cut underneath Keith’s legs and he fell backwards with the force.

Standing up again, he tried to get a better grip and still the boy. Hunk reinserted the knife and continued cutting around the arrowhead.

Lance screamed again, his eyes opening completely as he regained full consciousness. Tears trickled from the corners as he looked at Keith in what could only be described as pure terror.

“Lance, it’s okay. We’re trying to help you!” Keith said, trying to soothe him.

Lance let out a choked sob, his gaze lingering on the knife in his tail before squeezing his eyes shut. He whipped his tail again, missing Keith by a few inches.

“I won't,” he croaked, “be your prisoner.”

“I can’t pull this arrow out of you don't let me finish cutting around the head.” Hunk said as gently as he could. “We’re about halfway done.”

Keith was just about to explain to Lance that he wasn't actually a prisoner when Pidge burst through the door.

“Keith! The Galra ship came from around the bay! They’re loading up their cannons!”

Sure enough, a loud boom sounded. The warning shot.

“Fuck!” Keith cursed. “Pidge, is the ramp up?”

Pidge nodded.

“Great. Go steer the ship as quickly as you can. We’re a sitting duck here. We’ll be up to help you in a second.”

Another cannonball was released, landing in the water near their ship, making waves large enough to rock the _Red Lion_.

Pidge back to the upper deck and Keith exchanged a look with Hunk. “We need to get this out and go.”

“Go?” Lance said, panicked. “I'm not going! You didn't capture me!” He looked around the room, desperate for an escape.

“Hunk.” Keith said evenly, pressing his hands to Lance’s tail. The scales were smooth and cold against the skin of his fingers.

Hunk gripped the arrow.

“What are you doing?” Lance panicked, sitting upright on the table. He tried to whip his tail, but Keith held it down.

“No, no, no,no,” Lance protested weakly. “You can't, you said it wasn’t-”

Keith nodded and Hunk pulled the arrow out, trying to extract it through the area he had had time to cut.

Lance screamed again, sinking back down onto his elbows. He cried freely now as the arrow came out and scarlet blood painted his blue tail. Apparently the herbs hadn't been enough to slow the blood flow in his tail.

Lance’s head hit the table, his eyes clenched shut, all the fight drawn out of him.

“Lance?” Keith asked hesitantly.

Hunk took his pulse. “He’s fine, just unconscious. I'll finish up here, go help Pidge.”

With one last glance at the unconscious merman, Keith nodded and darted out of the medical bay.

Out on the upper deck of the ship, chaos reigned. Pidge was manning the steering wheel, trying to sail the ship as far away from its pursuer as possible. The wheel was half the size of them and it took all of their strength to make a sharp turn to dodge a cannonball.

A few leagues off, a Man-of-war sailed behind them. It was larger than the _Red Lion_ , and built for offence. The main sail was printed with a large symbol of the Galran empire.

“Maneuver right, Pidge!” Keith called, as he loaded black powder into the barrel of the cannon. The _Red Lion_ had five cannons along either side, heavily outmatched by the Galra ship, but that didn't mean she couldn't pack a punch.

He fired the cannon, and watched as the cannonball fell short of the Galra ship. Curse the short range of the cannons. Keith grit his teeth in frustration.

“Pidge, there’s a river that runs through the center of the island. If you keep sailing north, we should come to the mouth. It’s a faster way to leave the island.”

Pidge turned away from the wheel. “Is it deep enough to fit Red through?”

“It’s large enough.” Keith said.

“I asked if it was _deep_ enough. I already know this ship is small enough to fit if you’re mentioning it.”

Keith was quiet for a minute. “I don’t know.” He said, finally.

Pidge sighed, wringing a hand through his hair. “Well, I guess we’re about to find out.”

Hunk appeared at the top of the stairwell, surveying the ship trailing behind them.

“Man, the Galra sure are relentless. When are they going to give up on catching you?” He asked.

“When they have my head.” Keith said darkly. “Pidge, you know the plan, Hunk, help me man the cannon.”

Hunk ran to get more gunpowder and when he came back up, they loaded the cannon together. Keith waited as the Galra ship crept a little closer to the _Red Lion_.

“Three...two...one...now!” Keith cried, giving Hunk the signal to release the cannonball. The ball sailed through the air, until it made contact with one of the main sails on the Galra ship, tearing it in two. The ship slowed down considerably.

“Hold on guys!” Pidge called as the ship veered to the left. They entered the river, the mouth just large enough to accommodate them. The Galra aboard the other ship scrambled to turn the ship around as they realized their ship wasn’t going to fit. Some leaned over the rails and cursed at the _Red Lion_.

The crew aboard the _Red Lion_ cheered as they sailed further from the Galra ship. The men aboard the Galra ship jeered and struggled to repair their main sail.

Pidge turned to Keith. “So, what are you going to tell your merman when he realizes he’s not on his home sweet island?”

Keith sighed heavily, looking up at the clouds overhead. “The truth. He’s too injured and that island is swarming with Galra now. There’s no return for now.”

 

Lance blinked heavily as his vision came back into focus. His entire body hurt, but his tail was pulsing in pain. It felt like it had just been bitten by a shark. The water around him was warm, almost uncomfortably so. His shoulder and torso were bandaged and Lance was dying to itch at the scratchy fabric that covered the wounds.

He looked around, and even though the room was dark his eyes naturally adjusted, used to the dim lighting from spending time deep underwater. The room was small, with a tiled floor and one lantern hanging from above. Lance was sitting in a basin. Even though his tail was too long to fit properly in the basin, he could let it hang over the edge and it was a relief to have some salt water over his gills.

Lance had never been on a boat before, but considering the way the water was sloshing around the edges of the tub, swaying with the movement of the boat, he had no doubt that’s where he was now.

That lying, backstabbing pirate.

He had promised that he wouldn’t take Lance aboard his ship.

Lance had been the fool who had believed him.  
If he could add a second curse to his soul, he would.

Lance swallowed his fear. He needed to take action.

“Hello?” Lance called hesitantly. No one replied. He needed to get off, he couldn’t leave the island.

He tried to lift himself out of the tub, but bright colors flashed before his eyes, his wounds screaming as they stretched. The contents of his stomach sloshed in a way similar to the water in the tub. He sank back into the warm water, fighting to remain conscious.

He had to go home.

He couldn’t leave his family, his people.

He didn’t want to be indebted to Keith.

He didn’t want to think about the consequences of Keith capturing him. Had Keith lied to him the whole time? Did he know what happened to men who caught merfolk? Had he pretended not to in order to trick Lance into trusting him?

Sure, Lance had been curious about the human when Keith had first set on his beach, but after that he had _seen_ the damage they were capable of. Those other men _massacred_ the Goddess’ sacred horses, the horses that he had been taking care of for a year. They had hurt him. Why had he ever thought, for even a minute, that another human was going to help him? They were all full of greed and hate.

Lance mentally beat himself up for ever trusting a human. He had been warned against interacting with humans since he was a guppie. His mother would have pulled his tail if she knew what he had done today.

His mother.

His kind, beautiful, strong mother. Would she leave the safety of the depths to come search for him above? Would she deploy the Royal Army to search the seven seas for him? She had told him that she disapproved of him going to the shore, even if it was in the name of the Goddess. A deep guilt started gnawing at Lance’s gut.

Keith may think that he’d come into some good fortune by catching a merman, but he was wrong.

Lance was going to give him hell.

Lance was no one’s prisoner, especially not of some filthy, land-loving pirate. He flicked his tail in contempt. He swore on the Goddess’ last wish that he would find a way out and return to his home. Even if it was the last thing he did.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance meets some of the crew aboard the Red Lion, as well as a heavenly woman. Despite his bleak circumstances, he finds a new goal for himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow what happened to bi-weekly? I totally forgot I had my senior trip to Washington DC last week, whoops my b everyone 
> 
> Nevertheless, I hope you all enjoy this chapter. 
> 
> Once again, thanks to Holden for the art. Go show him some love <3

In the darkness of the ship’s bathroom, the door opened, light spilling into the room. The floorboards creaked with the weight of leather boots upon them. Lance, who had submerged himself as far as he could in the tub, about up to his eyes, stayed very still. He hoped whoever had come in would just take a piss and leave. His muscles tensed in anticipation.

A moment later, the source of light hovered over the tub. Squinting through the light, Lance made out the shape of the boy he had met earlier peering at him. It was even worse than he had expected. Clearly, the Goddess just wasn’t on his side that day.

“Sorry if I woke you,” Keith said, not sounding very sorry. He kneeled on the wooden floorboards, lantern still in hand, illuminating the two of them. Lance sulked, blowing bubbles in the water with his nose. As if he could sleep on this stupid rocking contraption, in this uncomfortable metal tub.

Lance waited, fins twisting in anticipation, for Keith to make his demands of him. Instead, the captain hung the lantern on a hook on the wall and sat back on his haunches. He produced a bowl, placing it on the rim of the tub.

“I thought you might be hungry. Hunk makes the best stew.”

Lance eyed the bowl warily. The substance was a murky brown color, and Lance could smell the aroma of meat, but there was also these green and orange bits that Lance couldn’t identify. Inside the bowl, a silver stick rested against the basin of the bowl. Lance’s eyes flicked back to Keith. The captain was watching, but he didn’t move from where he crouched.

Slowly, Lance reached forwards, ready to retreat the instant Keith moved towards him. He pulled on the silver stick and much to his surprise, there was a rounded edge at the bottom. He examined the object, watching beads of stew roll around the rounded bit at the end.

“That’s a spoon,” Keith said, making Lance jump. “Use it to eat the stew with.”

Lance looked back down at the spoon, and then to the bowl. Wouldn’t it be faster just to lift the bowl up to your lips? With one glance in Keith’s direction, he put the spoon back in the bowl and swirled it around the stew. He angled it so that the indent in the bottom faced up and when he lifted the spoon again, it was full.

Lance looked at the spoon in awe as he sloshed the liquid around the basin of the spoon. It seemed like a pretty slow way to eat, but he guessed this was pretty cool.

“Don’t play with it, eat it.” Keith said, a small smile on his lips.

Lance lifted the spoon, giving it a sniff. He didn’t smell any poison, just the meat teasing his stomach into rumbling. He slid his lips over the spoon. His eyes flew open wide and he spat the stew out, knocking over the bowl in the process. It slammed into the floor, spilling its contents everywhere.

Keith leaped back. “What the hell was that for?”

Lance panted, hands sealed over his mouth. He pressed himself to the back of the tub. That stew had bit him! Bit him the way pain did, sharp and acute, shocking his senses and making his tongue rear back in his mouth.

The pain faded after a moment, leaving only the bitter memory. Anger settled in the pit of Lance’s stomach. Stupid Keith, he had probably known that was going to happen!

Keith had thrown down a towel to try and mop up the spilled liquid, hissing under his breath. When he looked back up at Lance, he released a breath, his face smoothing out its anger.

“It was hot. You’ve only burned yourself, you’ll be fine.”

Lance didn’t respond, choosing to glare at Keith from behind his hands instead. Keith finished mopping up the spilled stew and after righting the fallen bowl, he settled himself by the edge of the tub again with a sigh.

“I need to check on your wounds, see if they need redressing.” Keith continued, reaching for Lance’s arm.

In response, Lance flicked his tail, which had been looped back over the edge of the tub so that it could dangle in the water. Water splashed onto Keith’s face. He scowled, wiping it from his cheek.

“Don’t be an asshole, I’m just trying to help.”

The unease Lance had had burnt into anger, as fast and bright as that lantern, so he sat up straight in the bathwater.

“ _I’m_ an asshole? You _captured_ me, what am I supposed to do, thank you?”

“We did save your life, you know. A thank you would be nice.” Keith replied shortly.

“My life wouldn’t have been in danger if you hadn’t come along!” Lance shot back.

“The Galra were waiting for me, but they would’ve found that island eventually anyway!”

The anger in Lance’s heart beat like a drum. In his mind’s eye he could see those men from earlier killing the Goddess’s horses and destroying the island as they pleased. His island was supposed to be sacred and safe. It wasn’t for the likes of men.

“You ass!” Lance spat. “Just because you’re cursed to die doesn’t mean you should drag me down with you!”

Keith’s eyes became hard as a fire burned behind them and his glare intensified.

“Shut up. If you breathe a word of that to the crew-”

Once again, he attempted to grab Lance. Lance mustered all the strength he could and whipped his tail at Keith.

“Ow!” Keith cried as the flat of Lance’s tail slapped his face, making him stumble away from the tub. Lance winced as pain shot through his tail.

“You’ll what?” Lance panted, his tail stinging from the sharp movement. “You may have captured me, but you can’t _catch me_.”

Keith regained his balance, holding his cheek in his hand, where the skin was as red as if it had been touched by the sun all day. His glared daggers at Lance, who had readjusted himself in the tub.

“We’re done for the night. If you can act like this, your wounds must be fine.”

He stood abruptly, the lantern swinging violently in his hand as he stormed towards the door. Before he left, he spun around to face Lance again, his eyes still narrowed, face set like a stone.

“Even if I did capture you, there are worse places to be then here.” His voice brimmed with a quiet anger. He slammed the door behind him, leaving Lance in the dark once again.

Although he had been triumphant, it didn’t feel very victorious. Lance couldn’t shake Keith’s expression and it was driving him mad. He could still see those dark violet eyes staring at him. Why should he care about Keith’s feelings? He was a no good pirate who couldn’t keep his word. Lance sank back into the tub, brooding as his eyes readjusted to the darkness of the room. The only noise was the sound of the water as he rearranged himself in the tub.

Stupid Keith, what did he know?

The island was supposed to be protected by the Goddess, out of sight of mortals, away from their prying eyes and greedy hands. Of course, there was the exception, but the men that had raided his island certainly weren’t the exception. _Keith_ definitely wasn’t.

Lance rolled over onto his side, lying on his arms and closing his eyes. If he was going to be stuck here for a while, he might as well sleep.

Through the walls of the metal tub, he could hear the ocean tossing and turning in her sleep, and he longed to see the dark curls of her hair falling over one another from above sea level. His stomach churned in time to the boat’s sway on the waves. The sea was so much calmer underneath the waves. Lance rolled over in the tub, trying to nestle himself under as much water as possible, but it wasn’t deep enough, so the water left some of his skin exposed to the cold air and splashed in his face every time he managed to get comfortable.

Also, in comparison to under the sea, it was so much louder above the waves. The wind whistled, constantly singing and trying to break through the walls of the ship. The waves crashed against the sides of the boat. Normally Lance thought the sound of waves breaking was very pretty, but now that he was trying to sleep, it seemed like a lion waiting to get him.

He scratched at one of the wounds on his shoulder and then hissed in pain as his nails caught the sensitive part of the wound. He almost wished he had let Keith change his bandages, because now they were seriously itchy.

Lance rolled over onto his back, looking up at the wooden ceiling with a sigh. He tried to ignore the itches under his bandages and the throbbing of his wounds. He started counting lines in the planks on the ceiling, but with every line he felt more awake.

Suddenly, the door to the bathroom creaked open. Lance sat up in the tub, prepared to snap at Keith for having the stupidity to come back. But instead of Keith, a large, hulking figure stood in the doorway. He carried no light, but Lance could make out his silhouette, almost as tall as the doorway.

Memories of a glinting steel knife flashed through Lance’s head and he drew back in the tub. There was only one person he had met so far on Keith’s ship that could be that large. The man got down on his knees in front of the tub, putting something on the floor with a clank. It sounded heavy and metal and panic struck Lance like a bolt of lightning hitting the sea.

Had he made Keith so mad that he sent his medic in to finish cutting Lance up? He had heard stories of human fishmen catching the sea’s supply of fish and cutting them up without so much as a thank you for the Goddess. Supposedly, these fishmen gutted fish from the belly up without so much as a second thought, separating the bones from the flesh.

There was a small scratching sound from somewhere below the tub and the man made a grunt of frustration, pulling Lance from his thoughts. Lance swallowed heavily, his entire throat going dry. He wrapped his hands around his stomach. If he got gutted on this ship, he would never make it back home.

He bared his teeth, watching the darkness for any movement. He had meant what he said. He was no prisoner. He wasn’t going to die here. His hands tensed, getting ready to claw the knife man’s hands away if he came close.

The scratching sound came again and suddenly the small room was bathed in light. Lance shrieked as reds and oranges swam in his vision, blinding him of the attacker’s motions. He lurched backwards, his head slamming into the wall.

The man gasped. “Sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you!”

Lance blinked, his vision slowly focusing on the dark skinned man in front of him. He warily eyed the man as he rubbed his throbbing head with his hand slowly.

Like Lance had thought, it was the man who had cut him earlier. His hair was as dark as the spots on the skin of a sea turtle, his skin only a few shades lighter. It was pushed out of his eyes with a yellow bandana. He looked at Lance earnestly, but Lance knew he was hiding that knife over the rim of the tub.

“What do you want?” Lance asked harshly.

The man blinked and looked away, fiddling with his fingers before looking up again.

“I couldn’t sleep. I was way too curious about officially meeting you to get my thoughts to settle down. Figured you wouldn’t be able to sleep either.” He laughed a little. “I didn’t light this lantern because I didn’t want to wake Keith up, but he sleeps like a dead man.”

Lance wanted to ignore this man in hopes that he would go away and take his knife with him, but his curiosity was peaked. He remained in his corner of the tub, but he entertained the conversation.

“Why would you wake Keith up?”

“Didn’t you know? I guess not, you were passed out cold when I carried you here.” He said thoughtfully. “This is the bathroom for the Captain’s quarters. Keith’s room is right outside this door. He never sleeps enough, so we try to be considerate when he is.”

The conversation fell flat as Lance looked at the door that apparently separated Lance and the vile pirate who put him here. If Keith thought he could keep Lance prisoner by guarding the door, he was dead wrong. He probably didn’t know it, but Lance’s people had the ability to shift into a few other animals. That included snakes, and nobody fucked with a snake.

“Anyways Lance, I came here to check on your wounds and make sure you were settling in okay.”

Lance’s ears twitched at the sound of his name. “How do you know my name?” He said, watching Hunk in distrust.

“Keith mentioned it earlier.” Lance scowled. How dare that dumb sailor have the nerve to gloat about capturing him? He was a prince, dammit.

“I’m Hunk, by the way. Nice to meet you!” Hunk continued, beaming. He reached his hand into the tub for a handshake. At the sudden intrusion of space, Lance immediately straightened up, ramrod straight, pulling his hands to his chest and backing away as much as he could. Hunk retracted his hand.  
>  
“Nuh uh. No way. We’re not friends.” Lance said, waving his hands, his brow furrowing. “I _know_ you have that knife you used earlier on you. You’re not getting _anywhere_ near me with that again.”

Confusion and then some other emotion trickled through Hunk’s features. Was that...guilt? Hunk stared at the ground, possibly counting the lines of the wood the same way Lance had earlier.

His eyes then met Lance’s, deep hazel ones meeting blue ones, the same way the dirt meets the sea. “I’m really, really sorry for that. I’m not an expert medic, but if I didn’t make the cuts, those arrows wouldn’t have come out cleanly. I didn’t want to hurt you anymore than I had to.”

He sounded sincere, but Lance sniffed anyways.

“I didn’t bring that knife with me either. I only use that one for medical purposes. I did bring you this fish though. I heard the stew didn’t really work out and I figured you might be hungry after everything that happened to you today.”

Lance tried to seem uninterested, but he was betrayed by his stomach growling. His stomach had already been taunted with the promise of meat once that day, it couldn’t wait any longer. Hunk chuckled, bringing up whatever he had placed on the floor before. It was a metal dish, holding a grilled fish laid on its side. The sight of it made Lance’s mouth water, but he forced himself to remain cautious as he took the plate from Hunk’s hands.

“I don’t really know what the mer eat, so I left the fish as is, except for grilling it.” Hunk said.

Lance sniffed it warily, trying to tell if there was some sort of trick to this offering. He couldn’t smell any poison. His nose twitched with the smell of the cooked meat. Although he was still little uncertain of the safety of the offered fish, it was too tempting to resist.

Lance closed his eyes and murmured a thank you to the Goddess for the fish, even though he hadn’t been the one to kill it. He blessed the fish for its sacrifice. When he opened his eyes again, he noticed that Hunk was watching him with a particular intensity, but he was too hungry to care. He bit into the fish, ripping the flesh in his jaws, devouring it instantly. Lance had never had a fish that was grilled before, but honestly, it wasn’t that bad. When he finished eating the fish, he placed the fish bone on the plate and licked his lips. He rinsed his hands in the water, tinting the water a slight red before the coloring dispersed.

Hunk was staring at him with a look that could have been horror or fascination.

“Wow, I guess you really were hungry! You have such sharp teeth!”

Lance looked away self-consciously, wiping his mouth again with the back of his hand.

Honestly, he was hungry enough that he could probably eat another fish, but he didn’t want to ask Hunk for another one if he was going to stare at him like that. In that moment, Lance really wished he was with his people. Usually when mer went out to hunt, they would go in pods for protection. It wasn’t unheard of to go by yourself, but Lance always had more fun competing with his brothers and sisters to see who could catch the biggest fish, or who could catch one the fastest. It always seemed like a glorious victory to sink his teeth into a meaty fish that he had won from his siblings. Now he felt like an animal being observed.

Hunk smiled again, oblivious to Lance’s discomfort. He pulled out a basket of bandages and herbs and started rummaging through it. When he held out a hand for Lance’s arm, he reluctantly gave it to him. With steady fingers, Hunk unwrapped the old bandage and examined the wound. When he had finished, he rewrapped it in clean bandages and repeated the process on Lance’s side. Lance did his best not to flinch every time the pad of Hunk’s fingers made contact with his skin. Hunk pulled away in silent apologies, giving Lance time to breath.

“I have to look at your tail.” Hunk said gently.  
Lance clenched his fingers on the side of the tub. He tried to separate the image of Hunk with the knife from earlier and the Hunk he was seeing now. Hunk and the man with the knife were different people. Hunk wouldn’t hurt him like that. With a deep breath, he gave a curt nod to Hunk.

Gently, Hunk started to unwrap the bandages around his tail. Lance shivered as his fingers touched the dark blue scales. It felt like each scale was overly sensitive, like it could feel every vibration and movement that happened on each individual scale. He tightened his grip on the basin of the tub and took in a shaky breath. He had never had tried to breathe air through his lungs instead of his gills for so long, but he focused on what he imagined the movement of his lungs to look like. Hunk tried to keep up conversation to distract him while he cleaned the wound.

“I know you didn’t want to come aboard the ship, but I think you’ll like it here. Keith’s a great captain and Pidge is cool, although it might take him a while to warm up to you. It’ll be cool to have a merman on the crew. We’ll be like a little family!”

 

Lance scrunched his nose up, furrowing his eyebrows.

“I _have_ a family.” He said darkly, trying to ignore the sting of the herbs Hunk was using on his tail, but failing as he bit back a moan.

Hunk’s hand had stilled on his tail and Lance desperately wanted him to remove it. After a moment, he did and Lance breathed a sigh of relief.

“I know I’ve said this a lot, but I am sorry. It must be hard to be taken from your family so suddenly. I left mine, and that parting was sad enough.”

Lance’s eyes turned downcast, studying the ripples he made in the water. Somehow, Hunk’s pity had made him feel worse.

“They don’t even know what happened to me.” He said quietly.

Hunk frowned. “I don’t mean to scare you, but we’re currently being tailed by the Galra. I’m sure they’re crawling all over your home island, but if you ask Kei-”

“I’m not asking him anything. Your ‘great captain’,” Lance said, cutting him off and making air quotes with his fingers, “promised he wouldn’t capture me, and yet here I am, a prisoner on your ship, miles away from my home.”

“You’re not a prisoner,” Hunk protested.

“What would you call this?” Lance snapped, gesturing vaguely at the small room around him, stirring up the water violently.

Hunk’s face softened. He placed a hand on Lance’s shoulder before he could duck away. Surprisingly, the heavy weight of Hunk’s hand, still warm from holding the lantern, was almost comforting. He let the hand sit there for a moment before shrugging it off. Hunk took the hint and pulled his hand back.

“Keith didn’t want to bring you aboard, I made him because I couldn’t treat you anywhere else than in the med bay. I don’t treat many men, nevermind mermen.” Hunk said. Lance blinked.

“Well, he’s still an asshole.” He huffed, crossing his arms across his chest.

Hunk laughed, a deep laugh right from the belly. “Yeah, he gives that impression sometimes. Words aren’t his forte, but his intentions are in the right place. I trust him as a captain and as a friend.”

Lance pouted, sinking deeper into the water of the bath. Even if he had tried to keep his promise, there was no way that asshole had pure intentions for him. If the rest of the crew was as dedicated as Hunk, then he must be leading his crew around on leashes. Lance wouldn’t be so easily fooled.

“Hey,” Hunk said, his voice becoming a little softer. Lance looked up at him, his hazel eyes staring seriously into the depths of Lance’s. “Give him a chance. He’s not that bad, I swear.”

Hunk stood up with a groan, stretching his stiff body, which had fallen asleep from sitting on the floor for so long.

“I should go to bed now. I’m glad to see that you’re doing okay.”

With that, Hunk left, taking the lantern and plate with him, submerging Lance back into the darkness of night. He slumped in the tub, until the water covered his shoulders like a blanket. He closed his eyes, and with a full stomach, drifted to sleep.

When he crossed into the threshold of the dream world, he found himself flashing into different scenes. At first he was just seeing the faces of his family, lips upturned the way he remembered them, but they began to twist into expressions of grief. His mother screamed, her voice full of anguish, his brother clenched his fists in his hair, his sister cried out, searching the seas for him. Lance tried to call out to them, but he found that he couldn’t make a sound, no matter how hard he tried.

Suddenly, he found himself lying on the beach. The sand was warm on his skin as the waves lapped at his tail. He reveled in the feeling for a moment, wanting to absorb as much sun as possible before he woke to the darkness of the Captain’s quarter’s bathroom.

His body didn’t hurt and with a flick of his tail he found that all his wounds were gone. He breathed in the scent of salt. However, the air was heavy with another scent mixing with the saltiness. He sat up, sand falling from his hair and shoulders in a shower around him.

The pale beige colored sand was painted red with the blood of the Goddess’s sacred horses, their bodies littering the beach, exactly where they had fallen in the fight. The blood ran down the sand into the water, tinting the clear waters red. Lance wondered if his people could smell all the blood from deep below the surface. If they could, he hoped none of them would come to the surface to investigate because the true horror sat a few dozen feet away from the shore.

Over the rocks, the group of Galran men from earlier sat around a fire. They clinked their mugs of alcohol together and laughed merrily. One of the horses- one of the Goddess’s sacred horses- had been flayed and was being roasted over the fire. Lance’s stomach churned even more than it had on the ship. He could feel the fish he had eaten earlier rising in his stomach, but he fought to keep it down.

The beach looked like a warzone. Trees had been chopped down haphazardly to provide wood for the men, but it looked like they had made a good game of destroying the island for fun too. Several of the trees along the edge of the forest were burnt and along with the bodies of the horses that were not properly taken care of, the men’s trash was strewn over the sand. Usually, the beach was alive with the rustling of leaves, chirping of birds, and slinking of the forest animals, but tonight there was no noise except for the laughter of the invaders.

Anger burned through Lance’s chest. These men didn’t have the first idea about respect for the Goddess. She had made these horses from the ocean waves, they were her sacred animal, not something to be eaten. He silently mourned them for their sacrifices. It was too late to save the horses, but the men weren’t paying attention. Lance’s eyes scanned the scene in front of him, looking for all potential openings. If he shifted to a snake, he could-

“Does this anger you child?”

Lance whirled around to find a women cross-legged on the beach behind him. Her skin was darker than the sand, her dress whiter than the waves. Dark hair cascaded down her shoulders, framing her regally beautiful face.

“I took care of those horses for over a year. They’re like friends to me.” Lance nodded towards the men around the fire. “Those men invaded the island and killed them.”

The woman hummed thoughtfully, not taking her eyes off Lance. “It would probably be wise to save your anger for another time. Meanings are taken from dreams, but not actions.” She advised.

She walked over to the body of the closest horse, crouching near its head and slowly running her hand over its matted fur. It’s eyes were round and glassy, and they reflected her sorrow filled eyes. When she pulled her hand away, it was just as clean as it had been before.

“What are you, young mer?” She asked.

Lance puffed his chest proudly. “My name is Lance. I’m the Ayuto to the Goddess. I’m the second prince, the third child to the king and queen of the southern seas, brother to my siblings, and uncle to their guppies.”

“I asked what you are, not who you are.” The woman looked at the horse for another moment before turning around to face Lance. Her eyes were dark and stormy, like the ocean on a rainy day, seductive and dangerous. Everything about her seemed like the ocean and with that realization, Lance’s eyes widened as he looked her over again.

“Are you the Goddess?” He asked breathlessly.

“Perhaps. Or perhaps I am a sister to this horse.” She gestured to the horse on the sands and when Lance blinked, a broad-chested horse a few shades darker than the sand stood tall in her spot. The horse trotted a circle around him.

“Or perhaps I am merely a snake in the sand.” The horse disappeared, replaced with a sand snake splattered with black dots. The snake flicked its tongue, and slowly slithered over Lance’s tail. She wrapped her body in a coil as she sat in his lap, her flat head placed on his chest. Lance sat very still. He wasn’t afraid of snakes, but the Goddess as a snake, might be something else entirely.

Sensing his discomfort, the Goddess slithered back off of him and the beautiful woman once again sat in front of Lance.

“So what are you?” She asked again.

“One of the horses. I was leader of the herd until today.” He said with a regretful look to the horse behind her.

“And?”

Lance shrugged. “A snake and a fish, although I use those forms less often. Anyone with Nokken blood has the ability to shift into those.”

“And?” She prompted again, her eyes boring into Lance.

He frowned. “Nothing else. Just those three, along with my normal form.”

The Goddess pushed her hair out of her face, and it rolled over her shoulder like an ocean wave. “I think you underestimate your true potential, guppy.”

“Guppy?” Lance said, his voice rising slightly before he remembered who he was speaking to. Embarrassed, he calmed his tone. “I haven’t been a guppy for many years now.”

She shrugged her shoulders. “Perhaps among your people, but I’m immortal. The rest of the merpeople will always be younger than me.” She grinned at Lance, teeth as sharp as a shark’s. “Especially you, little guppy.”

Lance huffed but accepted her term of endearment.

“Okay, but I still can’t shift into anything else. I’m only half Nokken, after all.”

“I think you’ll find that you’re capable of doing anything you wish, little guppy. You have the power of the ocean inside you. You’re stronger than the winds or the sun. If you set your mind to it, you can accomplish anything you wish.”

Lance drew circles with his finger in the sand. That sounded pretty similar to the bullshit the teachers always said to the smallest guppies in school. It was hard to imagine something so cheesy coming from the lips of the Goddess, but yet, here she was.

Her eyes seemed to bore into him. “You don’t believe me.” She said. It wasn’t a question.

He opened his mouth to protest, but she cut him off. “Didn’t members of the hunting pod and guppies at school tell you that you couldn’t become the Goddess’ Ayuto?”

Lance’s mouth hung open in shock for a moment. He hadn’t thought the Goddess would know about that. He supposed she _was_ the Goddess though, and she probably would keep an eye on affairs revolving around her.

“My parents supported me,” He said, smiling fondly at the memory of his mother’s encouragements. “I spent every free moment I had learning how to serve the Goddess, until it wasn’t a question of who should get the position.”

“Exactly! You did that! That’s a strength inside here.” Her hand ruffled his hair. “But there’s more strength that you haven’t tapped into yet.” The Goddess said, thrusting her clawed finger onto the flat of his chest. “Down here,” She tapped the very center of his chest.

“Most merfolk find their powers by the time they turn eleven.” Lance pointed out.

“In every person, there’s layers.” The Goddess explained. “You have basic powers, things you were confident you could achieve. Those are the things you did at the age of eleven. You watched your father shift into a snake and a fish when you were growing up, so you figured you could do it too. Later on, you needed to be able to shift into a horse in order to become the Ayuto, so you set your mind to it and you did, right?”

Reluctantly, Lance nodded.

“Then you can find the power to shift into a human, too.” The Goddess said, running her hands over the smooth skin of her legs.

Lance’s breath hitched in his chest. He pet the scales of his tail, shiny with the freshness of the water and the gloss of the color. Why would he want to be a human? Every decent merperson knew that they were deceptive and evil. The full blooded Nokken could change into humans, but they so rarely did because they said it made their skin itch and their scales feel dirty.

The Goddess seemed to read his thoughts. “Perhaps you should give the pirates a chance. These ones don’t seem to have ill intentions.”

Lance scowled. “But they captured me!” He lowered his voice. “You know what that means.”

The Goddess’s face softened. “I know. Contrary to what your people say, not all humans are evil. Sometimes, they’re not a weakness, but a strength. Fulfilling your duties to your captor isn’t always a burden.”

Lance wasn’t quite sure he believed her on that topic either, but her face had twisted into something rather wistful and it was clear that she was lost to her thoughts.

The Galran men, still eating around the bonfire, laughed loudly and seemed to pull her back to earth. She looked at the moon that hung above the sea.

“It’s time for you to wake, little guppy. I promise you that you have great potential. It’s just a matter of unlocking it.” She snapped her fingers, and the beach dissolved into a haze around Lance. He fisted some sand, not ready to return to the basin aboard the ship, but in seconds, that dissolved between his fingers as well.

He opened his eyes, wiping the remains of sleep from the corners. He sat up in the tub and stared at his tail. Was it really possible for him to shift into a human?

He closed his eyes again and tried to concentrate on shifting. He imagined his tail shrinking, splitting into two, becoming as smooth as the Goddess’s legs, as dark as his torso was.

When he opened his eyes again, his tail remained just that, a tail. Maybe he was still too weak to change his form.

Before he had the chance to try again, the door was opening with a small protest. Lance expected it to be Keith coming back, maybe to apologize, or even Hunk, but instead a scruffy looking man stood in the frame. His hair was long, a scruffy beard on his chin and over his upper lip. His eyes raked over Lance’s body with an expression he couldn’t read.

Lance flicked his tail in the water warily. Hunk had said there was someone else on the ship.

“Are you Pidge?” He asked.

The man appeared taken aback when Lance spoke. He took a step closer to the tub, his boots scraping against the planks of the floor as he shuffled forwards. He stood next to the tub, and Lance pressed himself against the back, putting some distance between the two.

“No, I’m not Pidge.” He said, his voice hoarse from the sound of smoking too many cigarettes for too long. He slid his thin, long fingers into the pockets of his black jacket.

Lance sniffed. Given by the look of this man, he must be some lower worker aboard Keith’s ship. It was only a matter of time before the rest of Keith’s men came to oogle at the mystical creature lurking below the decks of their beloved ship.

“What do you want?” Lance asked. “There’s not much I can help you with.” He gestured to the tub around him.

The man grinned, revealing his yellowed teeth. “Actually, I think there’s a lot you can help me with.”

In a flash, he had pulled his hands out of his jacket, armed with a knife. Lance recoiled, whipping his tail with full force, but the man was already in his space, already too close. He slashed at the wound on his tail, reopening it. Lance screamed in pain, caught off guard before he could channel any intention into the sound.

“Sorry fishboy, but you’re coming with me. I knew there would be treasure down here, but you’re a different kind of treasure than I was expecting.The black market would pay a pretty penny for you. As long as you behave, we won’t have any issues.” He grinned that sickening smile again.

Lance cried out and pressed his hand to his tail again as the man struggled to haul him out of the tub. As if being captured once wasn’t humiliating enough. Lance would be damned before he got captured twice.

He thrashed in the man’s arms, clawing at his cheeks and trying to slip through the man’s arms.

“Fuck!” the man cursed as Lance’s claws ripped at his skin. “If you don’t behave, I’ll give you another wound to ensure you have a reason to.”

“If you wanted to ensure I’d behave,” Lance spat, “you should have cut my throat.”

He opened his mouth and mustered as much intention as he could. He screeched in the man’s ears, making him loosen his hold and Lance used it as a chance to smack him with his tail, making him stumble backwards. The man blinked, trying to regain his senses, but Lance started to sing. His voice, melodic and strong, sang of a sailor leaving his love as he left. The man shook his head, trying to clear his mind, but the fog was too thick. Woozily, he stumbled towards the door. Lance growled in frustration, trying to channel more intention into the bits about his love. If the man didn’t connect Lance to his love, the charm wouldn’t work.

Slowly, the man started to set Lance on the ground. Suddenly, Keith burst into the room, his sword drawn. Blood covered his clothes, his hair mussed from the energy of a fight. Before the man had a chance to even stand and take his knife, Keith had subdued him.

He breathed heavily, glaring at Lance who was still sitting on the floor, panting as he clutched his wound.

“You are such a pain in my ass.” He grumbled.

“Feel free to let me go, then, Capt’n Mullet.”

Keith rolled his eyes, lifting Lance back into the tub. Lance debated clawing at the pale flesh of his hands, but thought better of it when he realized his tail was already uncomfortably dry and itchy. He hoped the water would soothe the area around his wound. Keith dropped him ungracefully back in the basin and Lance let out a noise in complaint as his wound sent sharp pains up his tail.

He was about to snap at Keith when the boy kneeled down next to the tub. Slowly, Keith reached his hand towards Lance’s tail. His eyes flashed to Lance’s which were frozen in the stillness of the moment. For once, Lance didn’t pull away. Keith trailed his fingers over the skin around the wound and Lance shivered as the flesh came in contact with his scales. Keith looked so intrigued by each scale that Lance wanted to slap his hand away.

“This will need to be treated again. He pulled the stitches out from before.” Keith scowled. “That man could’ve killed you.”

Lance eyed the dead man lying behind Keith, his knife lying uselessly from where it had fallen from his limp hand.

“I had it covered.”

Lance inhaled sharply as Keith pressed around the wound, putting on pressure to stop the bleeding.

“Yeah, him taking your injured ass off the ship really shows that you had it covered.” Keith said dryly.

“I was charming him to put me down!” Lance snapped. “I was going to charm him to jump ship!”

Keith quirked an eyebrow. “Charming? Is that what happens when you sing?”

Lance crossed his arms, pouting. “It’s what _would_ have happened if you hadn’t ruined it.”

“So even if he can’t hear your voice, he’ll still be charmed to do as you bid, no matter what?”

Lance blinked, and then sulked, crossing his arms against his chest. “...If the intention is strong enough.” He eventually muttered.

Keith scoffed, and Lance frowned. This guy was really getting on his nerves. His hand was still on Lance’s tail and that only served to irritate him more.

“Don’t you have more pirates to fight off or something?” Lance grumbled, flipping his tail to knock Keith’s hand away.

“Nope.” Keith said, popping the ‘p’ on his lips. He smirked. “I can handle myself.”

He stood up and dragged the dead man’s body from the room. His limbs flopped limply, where they had once been so resolute.

When Keith came back, he brought Hunk with all the medical supplies. Lance was hunched over, covering the wound with his hands. The water in the bath had turned red and from Lance’s erratic breathing, it was clear he was in pain.

“Let me see,” Hunk said, prying his hands away. Much to Keith’s surprise, Lance didn’t protest. Hunk let out a deep sigh as he looked over the wound.

“I’ll have to add more yarrow and sew up the wound again. Maybe we should make a sling to keep it elevated.”

Lance wrinkled his nose at the thought. He’d rather die than be that still for such a long time. Hunk gave him a small smile, seeming to read his thoughts.

“Maybe not, then.”

Hunk poured some of the yarrow powder from the vial and applied it to the split in Lance’s tail. He cried out, his hands flying in the air. Keith caught one of his hands, stained red with his own blood, and Lance ripped it from his grasp.

“Sorry,” He gasped. “I wasn’t ready. It really stings.”

Keith held his hands on the bulk of Lance’s tail, the scale smooth and wet to the touch. Lance placed his hands on either side of the tub and nodded to Hunk. Hunk threaded the string on the needle and started to re-sew the wound where it had been sewed before. Lance’s hands clenched, his dark skin going white. He whimpered as Hunk got to the worst part of the wound, and Keith moved a hand onto his back. In response, he bowed his head.

“I think that should do it,” Hunk said, cleaning his needle and packing the medical supplies back up. “Sorry we weren’t here to protect you, buddy. We didn’t see this guy slip through.”

Lance straightened up, the rims of his eyes red. “I don’t need protecting.”

Keith snorted. “This is from one man. Imagine what would have happened if a whole group infiltrated the ship. You’re just lucky that most of them were occupied fighting us above deck.”

Anger burned deep and quick in Lance at being called out for being weak again. “I told you, I had it covered!”

“I’m sure you did,” Hunk quickly comforted. “It’s just that you’re kind of stuck in this one room, and it’s not a very big room at that, so it would be bad if you were outnumbered.”

Lance turned away, sick of feeling patronized by Hunk and teased by Keith. He paid no attention as Keith left the room, or as Hunk drained the bloodied water from the tub and replaced it. The words of the Goddess itched at the front of his mind.

_“I promise you that you have great potential. It’s just a matter of unlocking it.”_

As reluctant as he was to admit it, Lance had been thinking about the Goddess’s words. If he could actually shift into a human, he could prove everyone on this ship wrong. Especially Keith. He wasn’t weak and he certainly didn’t need protecting. What did Keith know anyway? Maybe this proved how naive he was about the mer.

For the first time since leaving his home island, the winds had swept some of the weight from Lance’s chest. He closed his eyes and began the process of trying to shapeshift into a human once again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you guys think so far? Your comments are my motivation! I promise Lance won't be sulking in his sorrows forever XD
> 
> Questions? Comments? Friendliness? Come chat on my tumblr: [Celestial-caster](https://celestial-caster.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Also, please don't repost the art! Instead, go reblog it from Holden's lovely face over here: [Saltwater-paladin](https://saltwater-paladin.tumblr.com/)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ladies, gentlemen, and nonbinary pals, the moment you've all been waiting for...

With his fingers curled around the edge of the tub, Lance took deep breaths in and out. 

With every breath in, his visualised a scale falling off his tail and with every breath out, the patch was replaced with smooth tan skin. 

He imagined his gills sealing up, his skin becoming as smooth as the calm waters, in order to have fully functional lungs. Under his breath, he hummed a little tune, one about the changing of tides. 

When he was a guppy, first learning to shapeshift, his father had told him “Visualization is key.” He needed to know all the aspects of the thing before he could take a similar form. He imagined the way Keith strode across the floor, his boots loud on the wood, the way Hunk had drummed his fingers on his thighs the night before. When the Goddess had showed off her legs, they had been smooth and rounded, more slender and fragile looking than a tail, power hidden underneath in the muscles. 

Suddenly, a sharp stabbing knotted itself in the flesh of his tail. He tried to wiggle his tail to get the kinks out, but his entire body started to convulse, eyes rolling backwards, body falling against the back of the tub. He doubled over, panting and writhing as the intense pain centered around the wound on his tail. He clawed at the scales, the scales that he had so much pride in. Each one burned and he had never hated them more. His gills flapped wildly, trying to take in as much air as possible, but gaining less and less. 

When Lance looked down, the gills along his rib cage had started to seal up, smoothing out his torso, just as he had imagined. It was so much more painful than he had imagined, the gradually sealing of his skin, the air caught in his throat as the two lungs presiding in his chest started to work like a wound up clock. 

The pain subsided, and Lance lay in the tub with his eyes clenched shut, his chest heaving. None of his other transformations had ever been so painful. A little startling perhaps, but taking a new skin had felt nothing more than a bit awkward before. 

After a moment of catching his breath, Lance opened his eyes, almost scared of what he would find. Most of his body looked the same, remnants of a few small scales peppering his arms, the flat of his chest. However, below his torso, tan skin tapered farther, past his waist. Lance ran his fingers over the new skin, awed over how smooth it was. Where his tail usually was, darker than the night, spiraling into the sharpened points of his fins, two pale legs replaced it. 

Soon, awe was replaced with a giddy sense of joy. He had done it! He had actually shifted into a human! Lance laughed to himself as his fingers brushed over the hair sparsely covering his legs. He fingered the curve of his hips, that flowed so cleanly into the rounds of his newfound thighs and calves.With just a thought, the toes on his foot wiggled and Lance watched them, fascinated. Although he was loathe to admit it, humans were pretty in a sort of awkward, ungraceful way. 

Bracing both hands on the sides of the tub, Lance slowly lifted himself onto his legs. They shook as he put all his weight on them and he tightened his grip. He stumbled for a moment, but then found his balance. Keith and Hunk made this look so easy! Did all humans legs ache this way when they stood on them? Maybe that’s why they were so ungraceful sometimes. He lifted his leg, feeling the strange sensation of the muscles in his leg moving. He clambered over the side of the tub, slipping on some water that had spilled onto the floor. 

His eyes seemed to be heavier, colors flashing before his eyes. Nevertheless, Lance pressed his hands to the floor and pushed himself off the wooden planks. He swayed before grabbing the wall, trying to steady himself. Slowly, on new legs, still shaky from the transition, he took a few steps forward. His limbs felt weighed down by anchors and suddenly his legs collapsed from underneath him. 

He tried to push himself up, but his muscles groaned in protest. Even wiggling his toes sent spasms up his feet. He needed to get up. If he could just make it above deck, to the railing, he could jump overboard and shift back to his true form. If he just figured out how to work these stupid legs, he could go _home_. He tried to stand again, but colors flashed before his eyes and he finally relaxed the muscles, surrendering to his body’s command. 

Lance laid on the floor, panting for breath, trying to ignore the ache in his legs. His vision cut in and out, sometimes too dark to see anything. Time passed, but Lance had no way of knowing how long. All there was was darkness, sometimes a glimmer of light. He was so tired, his body so stiff and sore. 

“Lance… Lance!” Something was shaking him, but maybe that was just his body. Something wet was put to his forehead, and suddenly all traces of tiredness Lance had were gone. 

“That’s cold!” He shrieked, snatching whatever it was away from his face. His claws were met with flesh. Lance blinked, trying to adjust to his surroundings. He definitely wasn’t in the bathroom anymore. This room was brighter, and slightly larger. Waves of white sheets flowed around him, haphazardly tossed over his body, the bed made messily. 

Keith coughed. “Can I have my hand back?” Lance blinked again, focusing on his captor. Keith’s hand was outstretched, holding a wet rag. After a minute, Lance released his grip from around Keith’s wrist. 

"Where am I now?” He asked coldly. 

Keith rubbed his wrist where there were red indents from Lance’s sharp fingernails. “The captain’s quarters."

Lance looked around. Sure enough, now he noticed that several of Keith’s shirts were lying on the ground. His sword was held in a stand that was bolted to the floor. Across from the bed, the door to the bathroom stood ajar. 

“This is your room?” He asked. Somehow, the room seemed more modest than what Lance had been expecting. He had been imagining escaping from the tub and having to sneak through the infamous Captain Keith Kogane’s bedchambers for days now, but somehow, this felt much less satisfying. Maybe because he had been caught. The room was a lot less grand than Lance had thought. Instead of screaming ‘I’m the captain of a pirate ship and I’m better than you even though I’m an antisocial asshole!’, Keith’s room seemed almost...understated. It didn’t seem like he belonged there. 

Keith looked around the room as if he was trying to see the room the way Lance saw it. 

“I guess so.” 

Moving his hand hesitantly, he reached to wipe at Lance’s forehead with the wet rag again. This time, Lance begrudgingly allowed him to. Keith then picked up a glass of water by his bedside and brought it to his lips. Lance gratefully gulped it down, not realizing how dry his throat was until that moment. He was a little surprised at how gentle the pirate could be. 

“Would you like to explain why I now have a naked man in my bed rather than a dumb merman in my bathtub?” 

Lance looked down at his legs, which were now covered by the white bedsheets. It hadn’t even occurred to him that he was missing the garments that all the other humans seemed to wear. Even the man who had tried to attack him had had some. 

“Well,” Lance said, “The Goddess told me that I could shift into a human, so I was going to use that to escape, but apparently figuring out how to shift into a human took more energy than I thought.” 

“The Goddess?” Keith asked, raising an eyebrow. 

Feeling some of his snarkiness returning, Lance sniffed. “You know, the divine being who just happens to control all of the sea that you’re sailing on. I wouldn’t expect you landwalkers to know anything about that though.” 

Keith ignored his quip. “I’ve never heard anything about a sea goddess. You can talk to her?” He rubbed his chin. “Is it a merfolk thing? Or is it only because you’re a member of royalty, you know, like divine right?” 

“She’s not _a_ sea goddess. She’s _the_ sea goddess. Hence, the Goddess.” Lance said, drawing a capital G with his finger. “And I’m not telling you anything unless you tell me about that curse you’re harboring.” 

“What do you want to know?” Keith snapped. “A witch cursed me, and there’s no way to reverse it, so what more is there to say?” 

Keith sighed, running a hand through his hair and pulling several strands out of his ponytail. He deflated on the edge of the bed, causing Lance to tense up for a minute. Lance studied the captain for a moment. His stormy dark blue eyes seemed to hold nothing but sorrow. Around his body, the ugly blackened aura of his curse pulsated. His shoulders hunched in defeat. For a minute, Lance almost felt… bad for him. 

“There’s always a way to reverse a curse.” Lance pressed. “It’s part of the requirement for making one. There’s no such thing as an unbreakable curse.” 

Keith glared at him. “I don’t want to talk about it.” 

Lance hummed, trying to appear disinterested. 

“There are still other ways to break one.” 

“Like?” 

Something in Keith’s voice made Lance look up at him. For the first time, there was something of a glimmer in his eye, his voice desperately hopeful. Was it possible that he didn’t know? Had it just been chance that brought them together? Lance swallowed, his throat impossibly dry again. Did that mean that Lance was going to have to tell him about the Goddess’s curse? 

“Like what?” Keith asked again, his voice more insistent. 

Nerves flooded in Lance’s stomach, churning up it’s contents. He really didn’t want to explain it to Keith, yet the captain was waiting for him to say something. For once, he needed something from Lance and the feeling of being depended on was a familiar one that he was fond of. 

“I…” Lance stumbled over his own words. “I don’t know.” 

“Oh. Then as far as we know, there’s no way to break it.” He sounded so disappointed, his eyes dull, shoulders slumped. 

Keith’s disappointment crashed onto Lance like waves on the shore. A strange feeling bubbled in Lance’s chest, guilt prying at his insides for not telling Keith the truth. Wait, what? This was the man that had captured him! The pirate who had taken Lance aboard his ship against his will, when he had explicitly stated that he was not going to board any ship! He didn’t owe this land-loving pirate anything after what had happened to him, even if said pirate was a little down on his luck. 

Eager to move away from the situation, Lance threw back the covers of the bed and swung his legs over the side of the bed. 

“Great calamity!” Keith swore, flushing as red as red coral. 

“What’s your problem now?” Lance asked, trying to find his balance by clutching the small table next to Keith’s bed. His legs felt numb from lying in the bed for so long, but they weren’t as painful as before. He must have regained some of his strength from the nap he took. 

Keith twirled around to face the wall, his face tightly pinched. Lance watched in vague amusement and high confusion. He looked down at himself. 

“Oh!” He exclaimed. “Is this about the naked thing?” 

“You need clothes.” Keith grumbled. 

“Sorry, I forgot. I don’t have any clothes though.” 

“Well, you can’t go above deck like that. You’ll have to borrow some of my clothes until we can find something else.” Keith said. He gestured vaguely behind his back to the clothes that littered the ground around the bed. “Take your pick.” 

Lance eyed the clothes distastefully. Several billowy white shirts and some darker shirts like the one Keith was wearing were there. He slipped on a white one, disliking how it sat on his skin. He picked at the shoulders, trying to make it not stick to his shoulders as much. 

“Okay, all set.” Lance said. Keith started to turn around and slapped a hand to his eyes, his face turning bright red again. 

“Lance, you need pants.” 

“Pants?” Lance questioned. 

Keith tugged at the fabric around his legs. 

“Something to cover your privates.” 

“Privates?” Lance was just getting more and more confused. 

Keith breathed deeply through his nose. “Nevermind. Just put these on.” He stooped down and picked up a pair of trousers, almost identical to the ones he was wearing now, just a few shades off. Lance wrinkled his nose at them. 

“Why would I want to cover my legs? They look so nice!” He modelled a leg, admiring his handiwork. 

“If you’re in public, you need to wear clothes. Being a merman isn’t an excuse not to wear pants when you’re in human form.” Keith said, still looking visibly flustered. He handed the pants to Lance a little more forcefully, still adamantly looking away. 

Reluctantly, Lance slid the trousers on. He didn’t like it though because the fabric clung to his leg like an urchin on a boat. His legs felt weird when he put them together. Overall, he wasn’t impressed. Keith idly looked over a map, facing the wall opposite of Lance. 

A glint of gold caught Lance’s attention. Some fabric hung on the handle of the drawer of a small dresser tucked in the corner of the room. Shuffling over to the dresser, Lance took the fabric in his hand. The jacket in his hand was stiff, but clearly made of quality material. The black colors were darker than shadows, as dark as the night sky. It was embroidered with gold, creating fancy designs along the collar and buttons. Lance slid the jacket over his white shirt, and although the sleeves were too long, the jacket was actually pretty comfortable to wear. Lance slid open the drawer the jacket had been hanging on, but didn’t see anything of interest. 

“Okay, now I’m done.” He spread his arms out, smiling as the captain turned around. Keith’s eyes went wide, his violet eyes as watery as the sea. His eyebrows furrowed and when a pale hand slammed the drawer shut. 

“Take that off.” Keith growled. His eyes were stony, all traces of gentleness and warmth gone. 

Lance blinked, taking a step back with unease. “What?” 

“Take it off!” Keith yelled, thrusting his finger right over where Lance’s heart was, on the fabric of the jacket. Quickly, Lance slid the oversized jacket off of his shoulders and released his hands from it’s warmth. He cautiously handed it to Keith, who grabbed it from his hand and straightened the folds. 

“Stay out of the drawers and if you ever touch this again,” Keith paused, his eyes glinting dangerously. “I’ll gut you like the fish you are.” 

Lance shuddered involuntarily, taking another step away from Keith. Keith had turned away from him and was lost in this reflection on the shiny buttons, so Lance used the opportunity to creep from the room, closing the door to the Captain’s Quarters as quietly as he could so he wouldn’t draw any attention to himself. He steadied himself against the wall, trying to calm his heart and stop his body from shaking. He wasn’t sure what had just happened, but there was no doubt in his mind that Keith would keep his word. 

No one seemed to be below deck, so slowly, using his hand for support, he edged his way down the hall. One room held what looked like a kitchen, another had a bunch of hammocks strung up. Lance guessed that must be where the other members of Keith’s crew slept, but there weren’t very many, a dozen or so. He had heard that pirate ships were manned by hundreds of men. Maybe there were more somewhere else. At the end of the hall, several steps led to the ship’s deck. 

With no hesitation, Lance stepped above deck. For a moment, he just stood there, staring at the sky. It was a bright blue, bluer than the ocean, peppered with big white clouds that looked soft enough to lie in, if only one could reach them. He inhaled deeply, taking in as much of the salt in the air as possible, relishing under the colors of the sky. 

When he was a guppy in school, there had been a tale taught to them about how the sea loved the sky. She loved the colors of the sky so much, she tried to imitate them herself, but that only drove the sky away. At night, the sky would go to sleep and the moon would take her place. The moon saw the sea, who was still very sad that the sky would not love her back. The moon drew the sea to her, wanting to meet the sea. However, when the sea tried to reach the moon, the sky had gotten jealous and kept her out of the sea’s grasp and the two were inevitably separated. The sea reflected the moon in her waters every night to show the moon how beautiful she thought she was. 

After hearing that story, Lance had sworn that the sky was horrible and cruel and that when he eventually saw it, he would never fall in love with it the way the sea had. His teachers had told him that the sky was very charming and that’s why it would be better to stay in the safety under the waves. When the time came for Lance to go above water for the first time, he understood why his teachers had said it was dangerous. 

The first time Lance had ever seen the sky was when he started his service for the Goddess. The sky had been a brilliant red as the night became day and the sun rose so the sky could start her shift again. It had been overwhelming, enough so that he had had to lie down on the sand and just stare at it for a few minutes, trying to take it all in. That was impossible though, because the sky just seemed to stretch forever and ever. Lance had been instantly seduced by the warmth of the red and by the time the sky had turned a beautiful shade of blue, Lance had understood exactly why the sea had fallen in love with the sky in the first place. 

Today, he fell in love with the sky all over again. It made Lance feel as lighthearted as its colors were. 

The sun radiated off the deck, making the wood warm under Lance’s bare feet. It made him want to lie down and sunbathe, but the sound of the ocean, ever louder above deck, was beckoning him. He practically ran to the rail of the ship, peering over the edge. The water jumped up at him, inviting him to jump into the safety of the dark waves below. He was desperate to feel clean salt water on his skin again, for the chance to catch as many fish as he wanted, to go home. 

He had just lifted his head to survey his surroundings when a hand shoved his head back down roughly, pushing his body over the railing. For a minute, he panicked that it was Keith, but then his attacker spoke. 

“Who the fuck are you? You look too weak to be Galra, but we don’t take kindly to stowaways either.” 

Lance couldn’t see the person behind him, but they sounded young. Their voice was rather high pitched, the hand on the back of his head strong, but small. 

“The name’s Lance.” 

The person laughed, short and sarcastic. “Lance? Like that injured mer Keith took a fancy to? Sorry mate, but I don’t really think he had those legs of yours. I don’t know what the fuck you-” 

Lance tried to turn his head to see the person forcing him overboard, but even then, he could only glimpse of a green vest. It wasn’t really a problem if they shoved him overboard, considering that’s where he wanted to go anyway, but he would have to figure out how he was shifting back to his true form pretty quickly. 

“Lance? Pidge, let him go!” The tension in Lance’s body leaked out when he heard the sound of Hunk’s voice. The knife incident was forgiven, in that moment Lance didn’t think he’d ever heard a more beautiful sound than Hunk’s voice. 

Pidge yanked him away from the railing, but didn’t let go of the collar of his shirt. 

“What? You’re trying to tell me that this guy is the dying merman we hauled on board the other day?” Pidge shook Lance’s shirt for emphasis. 

“That’s what I was trying to tell you,” Lance replied. Pidge glared at him, green eyes venomous. 

“How?” Hunk asked, gesturing at Lance’s legs, a tone of awe in his voice. 

“I shifted!” Lance said, grin stretching across his face proudly. 

“Shifted?” Pidge asked. 

“Yep!” Lance stretched his leg out to be admired. “Nokken have the ability to shapeshift into certain forms, including human!” 

“That’s so cool!” The large man’s eyes shone and Lance preened under the attention. He rolled up one of the legs a little more to show off the smooth brown skin underneath. 

“Look!” 

Pidge seemed a little more dubious, but he released Lance’s collar. “Why didn’t you just do that from the start then? It would have been a lot easier to carry you aboard without the giant, heavy tail.” 

Lance’s pride deflated a little. “Well, I didn’t know I could do it until recently. Also, I was taken against my will, so it’s not like I was going to make _Keith’s_ life any easier.” He spat Keith’s name like something sour on his tongue. 

“Aw man, you’re still on that?” Hunk asked with a small chuckle. 

“He just tried to kill me!” Lance said indignantly. Despite Keith getting angry at him for no reason, part of him lingered on the memory of Keith carrying him from the bathroom floor to his bed, and of his gentle hands wiping the sweat from Lance’s brow. 

Pidge grabbed Lance’s face, holding his cheeks in his hands. It was a little sudden, but Pidge’s hands weren’t as rough as when he was trying to shove him overboard, so Lance relaxed into the touch. Pidge rubbed his thumbs across Lance’s cheekbones. 

“Your human transition is almost perfect, except for your markings.” Pidge noted. “Your ears are a little strange too.” Hunk peered over his shoulder. 

“Do all the mer have face markings?” 

“Not like these!” Lance trilled, intense joy spilling into his voice. He was always happy to talk about his markings. “These are specific to servants of the Goddess!” 

Before Pidge could ask more questions, they were interrupted by the sound of boots on the wood of the _Red Lion_. 

“Wow, now you’re being manhandled by the smallest member of my crew, Lance? I think you’re going to have to step it up a notch.” 

“Hey!” Pidge complained, but he didn’t sound mad. 

Lance pulled his face from Pidge’s hands, scowling. Keith looked calmer than before, almost friendly, but Lance couldn’t shake the image of his face from before out of his mind. 

“Do you have a problem, Mullet?” 

“Mullet?” Keith fingered his hair self-consciously. 

“You heard me. You want a fight?” Lance spread his arms wide. “Come get me.” Keith’s cold gaze swept over his body. 

“Lance, I really don’t think that’s a good idea,” Hunk interjected. 

Keith held up a hand. “No. If he wants a fight, he can have one. I saved his life, but if he wants to throw it away, that’s his choice.” Keith drew his sword. “What will you use as a weapon?” 

Lance looked around. He hadn’t really thought that far ahead. Around Pidge’s waist was a leather belt, a sword tightly strapped at the hilt. 

“Let me borrow your sword.” Lance said. 

Pidge exchanged a look with Hunk. “Lance, as much as I would love to see you get your ass handed to you by Keith, I really don’t thin-” 

Anger was building in Lance’s chest, rushing to his head. They didn’t think he could do it. He wasn’t really sure why everyone on this ship thought he was weak, but he was determined to prove them wrong. 

He pulled the sword from Pidge’s belt, ignoring his cry of protest. 

“Give me what you’ve got, pirate.” Lance spat. 

Keith rushed at him mercilessly. He swung his sword, cutting through the air. Lance struggled to move his legs backwards and wield the sword at the same time. In hindsight, maybe he should have listened to Hunk and Pidge. Lance had never used a sword in his life and Keith was clearly more than proficient. 

Keith lunged at him again, swinging his sword at full force. 

Lance dodged, swinging his own sword. 

Keith parried it, the chime of metal on metal loud in the silence. 

Lance was pushed backwards, the expanse of sea behind him. 

Keith advanced and with every step, Lance became more desperate. He had to prove to everyone that he could hold his own. 

Not a drop of sweat fell from Keith’s brow, even in the heat of the sun. He strode towards him, confident and poised. 

Keith slammed his sword into Lance’s, making him release his grip. The sword clattered on the deck, but before Lance could get it, Keith kicked it out of his reach. He took a step towards Lance, sword pointed at his chest. Lance took a step back, but Keith was persistent. 

Keith’s blade hissed through the air. Lance brought up his sword to parry, but missed. The sword cut shallowly into his arm, and he hissed in pain with the faint sound of the fabric of his shirt ripping. 

With pain flowed anger. He couldn't lose. 

Suddenly, a burst of water shot from the sea, plowing into Keith. His body slammed into the deck, forcing him to drop his sword. Pidge and Hunk audibly gasped from where they were perched by the main mast. 

Lance took his opportunity and jumped on Keith. He felt the contraction of his chest underneath him as Keith struggled to regain his breath. 

Keith twisted underneath him, but Lance held tight, pinning Keith’s hands with water. Keith strained against his bonds, but the water wasn't going to be swayed by him. 

Suddenly, all the tension in him was gone as his body relaxed and stopped writhing in Lance and the sea’s grip. Pidge and Hunk looked on in awe. 

Lance relaxed, releasing the water’s hold. The water unpinned Keith’s wrists from the deck, seeping into the thick wooden boards. 

Suddenly, Lance found himself pinned to the deck. Keith sat on top of his, leering over his face. 

“Fooled you,” he said, a sultry smile playing across his pale lips. 

Lance struggled, pushing at Keith and kicking his legs, but Keith was steadfast. He didn’t break eye contact with Lance. 

“Surrender.” 

“No!” 

Keith pressed Lance’s wrists harder into the wood. 

“Surrender.” 

“No. I will not submit.” Lance said, ocean blue eyes daring Keith to make the next move. 

Make the next move, Keith did. 

From behind his back, he pulled his knife out of its sheath on his belt with a hiss of the metal. 

He held the blade to Lance’s throat, the metal glinting in the sunlight. The point pressed into Lance’s adam’s apple and he lay very still. 

“Submit then,” Keith grinned. 

Lance swallowed heavily, almost as aware of the blade at his throat as he was of the light in Keith’s eye. This was a serious matter, but Keith looked easygoing. Any trace of the anger and sorrow he had before was gone. 

Lance went limp against the floor. 

“I submit.” He mumbled. 

“I'm sorry, what was that Lance?” Keith asked with a sugar sweet smile. 

“I’m not saying it again,” Lance snapped. “Get off me.” 

Keith stood up, releasing Lance and sheathing his knife again, a grin plastered on his lips from ear to ear. Hunk released the breath he had been holding. Lance panted, trying to calm himself, his eyebrows furrowed. If anyone asked, he definitely wasn't pouting. Keith could rot from that curse for all he cared, forget trying to help him. 

But then, to Lance’s surprise, Keith stretched his hand out, offering it to Lance. Lance squinted at him for a minute from the floor, before slowly accepting it. Keith pulled him up and Lance grabbed his shoulder to maintain balance. He quickly removed his hand in case Keith was still mad at him, but he didn’t seem to mind anymore. 

“Man, you’re just lucky this was my first day with legs,” Lance said, trying to maintain some of his pride. “Otherwise I would’ve had you.” 

Keith snorted. “Sure. I would’ve liked to see that considering you barely know how to hold that sword.” The blood rushed up to Lance’s face, but before he could protest, Keith continued. 

“But that thing you did with the water was pretty cool. It’s a good move to use in a fight.” 

“Yeah!” Hunk cried. “You should have seen yourself! It was just like whoosh! And then Wham! And then I was like woah!” 

Lance couldn’t help but smile at that. 

Pidge stepped forward, his hand outstretched in the same way Keith had held his out before. 

“Jesus, this has been eventful. I guess I never properly introduced myself though. I’m Pidge. I’m a shipwright, along with Hunk, and the resident mechanics expert.” 

“Nice to officially meet you. Hunk told me a little about you.” Lance smiled. “I’m Lance.” 

Pidge rolled his eyes. “Believe me, I know. I’ve heard more than a little about you over the past few days from Keith.” 

Lance shot a curious look at Keith over Pidge’s shoulder, but he was avidly interested in the way the waves were moving. 

“Anyways, I guess you’ll be traveling with us for a while until it’s safe for you to go back home.” Pidge said, adjusting his glasses on the bridge of his nose. 

“I guess so,” Lance agreed. 

“Welcome aboard the _Red Lion_ , Lance.” Hunk said, smiling warmly. 

“It will be nice to have another face in the crew!” Pidge exclaimed. He smiled cheekily. “I think Keith thinks it’s especially nice.” 

Keith scowled, blushing. “Shut your mouth or I’ll make you swab the deck by yourself.” 

“Aye aye, Captain.” Pidge said, mockingly swinging his hand from his brown curls in a salute. 

Lance looked around at the ship, eyeing the black jolly roger flying above the billowing white sails of the _Red Lion_. For the first time, he noticed how quiet it was. 

“Say, where’s the rest of the crew?” 

“You’re looking at it.” Keith said. 

Lance’s jaw dropped. “Are you kidding me?” 

Keith quirked an eyebrow. “No?” 

“You’re a highly wanted pirate by those Galran government and you sail this fancy ship with only two crewmates?” 

“Yep.” Keith sheathed his sword, the metal sliding in with a _shhssk_. 

Pidge and Hunk laughed, and soon even Keith was chuckling with them. Lance just stood there with his mouth open in awe. 

What the _hell_ had he gotten himself into? 

“We need to make a supply stop, especially since we didn’t get anything from Lance’s island.” Hunk said, catching his breath. 

“How much longer can we hold out?” Keith asked, sculpting his expression back into one of seriousness. 

Hunk paused, snapping his fingers to try and think. “A couple of days at most. Most of the perishables we had left is starting to rot, so we mostly just have some salted fish from the last time I went fishing.” 

“Alright then, let’s see what we can do.” Keith unrolled a map, faded from being in the sun and torn from being unrolled too many times. His eyes flitted from side to side as he read the map. 

“The nearest island with a port that we can stock up at is a two day sail from here.” Keith said. “Set course to south of here.” 

“Yes, capt’n!” Pidge and Hunk said in unison, each parading to their respective positions. Lance leaned against the railing, feeling the wind break against his cheeks and absorbing as much salt and sun as possible. 

Keith was just as much of an asshole as his people had said pirates were, but Hunk and Pidge seemed nice enough. If Lance was going to be stuck away from home for awhile, he supposed it could be worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry Lance, I fell in love with the sky too. 
> 
> Leave any comments or questions you have, you are all the love of my life and my motivation. (I'm a tired teenager applying for college please love me)
> 
> If you have questions, comments, or general chats, you can find me at [Celestial-Caster]()
> 
> Also please don't repost the art! Instead, reblog it from Holden's lovely face over here:[Saltwater-paladin](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/saltwater-paladin)  
> Go chat with him and force him into making art for me <3<3


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is so late, but hey guess what boy applied for college? That's right, this one! No art for this chapter, because Holden also needs to apply and he's got a portfolio he needs to finish up, but hey maybe I'll actually have more time to work on this AU now yay

“We’re here! We’re here!” Lance sang, twirling Pidge in his arms. The horizon of the town loomed in front of the _Red Lion_ , docks lining the shore. Pidge swatted Lance away, but he laughed and continued chanting right along with Lance.

“Alright, you two. Stop making fools of yourself before you ever set foot on the docks.” Keith said, a hint of amusement in his tone. 

“I don’t even care about what the people on the docks think,” Hunk said. “It’s been so long since we stopped at an actual port.”

“I’m so happy to be off this stupid boat,” Lance sighed happily. His stomach already felt calmer just at the idea of stepping off this swaying death contraption. 

“It will be an interesting change of pace.” Keith agreed. He spun the wheel slightly to the right, slowly navigating the _Red Lion_ through the shallow waters to the docks. 

“Release the anchor!”

Pidge and Lance scrambled to the bow and together, they lifted the anchor overboard and watched as it settled in a plume of sand. Pidge gave the rope an experimental tug. 

“Seems like it’s hooked in.”

“Great, let’s go ashore now!” Lance cried, rushing to lower the ship’s ramp. 

For this first time since coming aboard the _Red Lion_ , Lance was really happy. He was excited to experience human culture first hand, since no humans lived on his island. He peered over the railing in wonder at the port in front of him. 

More people than he had ever seen were milling around the docks, taking care of their ships, selling fish and going about their daily business. With a small shiver, Lance noticed a fish men gutting the day’s catch with a meat carver’s knife. He rubbed the scales that freckled his arm absentmindedly. 

Dozens of ships were lined up at the docks, all shapes and sizes. He noticed there were a few jolly rogers flying high above the main sails, but most of the ships didn’t seem to have one. 

“Hey, is it okay to land here?” Lance asked. “Aren’t you like, really wanted as a pirate?” 

Keith peered up at the sky, one hand covering his eyes. His jolly roger flew jauntily in the evening breeze, proudly displaying its painted lion.

“It should be okay. This town is known for smuggling and shady businesses, so they tend to turn a blind eye to any pirate ships at their docks, so long as no major trouble is stirred up.”

“Smuggling what?” Lance asked. 

Keith shrugged. “Weapons mostly, although there’s a black market here too. They sell valuable body parts and wares you couldn’t get anywhere else.”

“Speaking of which, you should probably cover up, Lance.” Hunk said. “We wouldn’t want any black market sellers taking an interest in you.” He gestured to Lance’s ears, still notched, the way a nokken’s ears always were. Lance fingered the bend of his ear. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t get his ears and facial markings to disappear when he shifted to a human. Obviously, they were small details and weren’t as noticeable as his tail, but it still bothered Lance that his transformation was less than perfect. 

Pidge found a cloak and Lance buttoned the dark fabric around his neck, pulling up the hood to cover his ears and hide his face. 

“It will look a little strange that you’re wearing a cloak in such warm weather, but it should make people more inclined to stay away.” Keith noted. 

Lance grumbled under his breath. The hood itched against his ears and it _was_ warm out. The sun blazed overhead like the orange flame of the lantern by the tub, bright and intense. He could already feel the sweat beading on his forehead. Nevertheless, if it meant he got to get off this damned ship, he would do it. 

The group strode along the docks, Lance bounding at the front. There were so many people here. More people than merfolk in his pod, and they hadn’t even gotten to the main portion of the town yet. People wheeled wagons across the docks full of imported items and fish ready to be sold in the market. The smell of fish was pungent in the air, making Lance’s stomach rumble. 

As they entered the town, the fish smell lessened, but Lance was even more enthralled. 

“There’s so many buildings!” He said. They were all painted differently, with different style roofs and general designs. 

“Those are all the houses for the townspeople,” Hunk explained.

Lance frowned. “That’s what human houses look like?” 

“What do mer houses look like?” Pidge asked, adjusting his glasses to properly look at Lance. 

“Nothing like this,” Lance replied. “Generally, we live around coral reefs and kelp forests because they’re good for protection and resources. Also, our community is a lot more tight knit than this, with everyone living a lot closer. Even though my family lives in the royal palace, we still live close enough to know everyone.”

“Woah, that’s so amazing!” Hunk exclaimed. “Their entire community is set up for protection! Isn’t that cool, Keith?”

Keith, who had been quiet, seemed a bit startled to be pulled out of his thoughts. “Yeah, that’s pretty cool, Lance.”

“Look guys, there’s the entrance to the market!” Pidge said, pointing at a path that led to an array of little tents and stands making little rows. 

“Okay, we need to figure out who’s doing what.” Keith said as they approached the entrance.

“I’m going to go replace the things we need for the pantry,” Hunk said. “But I’ll need someone to give me a hand.”

“I’ll do it.” Keith volunteered. “Pidge?” 

“I’m going to go look for some new tech to help improve the stuff I’ve been working on.” 

“I’m going to go with him.” Lance said cheerily. Maybe he’d get to see some more cool stuff that way. 

“When and where are we meeting up again?” Hunk questioned. 

Suddenly, the sound of a loud bell rang in their ears. Lance’s ears twitched, looking for the sound. Across the market, in the distance, he could just make out the tall bell tower of the town’s church.Humans really had some fascinating creations.

“I’m guessing that bell rings every hour.”

“Great. Then we’ll meet back here in roughly an hour.” Keith said. 

The group entered the market, being pushed in with the wave of people already milling around. 

“See you in an hour,” Pidge waved, veering off the main path between two of the stands. Lance weaved around a merchant selling fruits to follow him. 

Lance increased his strides to keep up with Pidge’s brisk pace. He wished he had more than an hour to stare at all the wonders of the marketplace. Most of the vendors were selling food, but it was all so vividly colored and fresh. 

Stands upon stands, draped in brightly colored fabric, tented over the booths, lined with colorful wares. The fruit was stacked neatly, watermelons as green as seagrass, something that look suspiciously like a sea cucumber, and apples as red as the sail of the Red Lion. There were so many more fruits too, all different colors and shapes, so many that Lance couldn’t have named them all even if he had known their names. 

Pidge made his way through the market, waving off a persistent merchant who was trying to convince them to buy a giant leg of deer. Lance wasn’t really sure what a deer was, but it smelled delightful. Lance stumbled on his legs, still not quite having the practice to move quickly and gracefully. 

After a few rows of food merchants, they entered the back stalls, where there was more variety in the sales. Carpenters boasted of their craftsmanship as they modeled chairs, cabinets, and other household items or decorations. There were several merchants selling fabrics, rich in color and design. Some of the fabrics looked so soft that Lance wanted to touch them, just to see if they’d pull apart like clouds. Pidge noticed his lingering gaze. 

“We should buy you some new clothes while we’re here, that way you don’t have to keep wearing Keith’s.”

Lance made a face, although he wasn’t really sure if it was about the idea of getting more constricting clothes, or the idea of continuing to wear Keith’s clothes. 

He started to approach the merchant with the really soft fabrics, eager to finally have the chance to sink his fingers into the soft threads, but Pidge took his arm. 

“We need to find a clothing merchant, not a fabric one. Come this way.”

Lance looked back in confusion. What was the difference between a clothing merchant and a fabric merchant? Weren’t clothes also fabric? Pidge must have seen the confusion written on his face, because he rolled his eyes. 

“Fabric merchants only sell yards of fabric. It has to be sewed into a design to actually fit your body. Clothing merchants sell fabric that’s already been stitched together to cover your body. In the interest of time, it’s faster to do it this way.” He explained. 

A man with a simple white robe was straightening the sleeves of a black jacket when they arrived at the stand. The stand was a bit bigger than the rest, big enough for people to walk inside. A white canvas stretched over the top, but the sides were lined with any article of clothing the mind could imagine. Dresses, pants, shirts, jackets of all different sizes and colors were hung so closely they seemed to make walls around the stand. 

“Good evening, sir.” Pidge said. “We’re looking for clothes for my friend here.” He gestured at Lance, who fingered the fabrics closest to him, interested in the feeling of the smooth texture under his fingertips. 

The merchant rehung the jacket, looking the two of them over. 

“Your friend will have to take off that cloak if I’m going to figure out what size he is.”

Lance exchanged a nervous look with Pidge. Pidge’s eyes flicked back over the merchant, but when he looked back at Lance, he gave him a reassuring nod. He discreetly placed his hand on his hip, close to where the hilt of his sword was. 

Lance unbuttoned the cloak, pulling it off of him. It was like a breath of fresh air, his body instantly cooling down by several degrees. Pidge took the cloak with his free hand. 

If the merchant noticed his ears or thought his facial markings were strange, his face made no indication of it. The merchant’s eyes scanned his body, following the lines of his arms and hips, calculating the length of his legs. Lance shifted uncomfortably. Even though he was fully clothed, he felt naked under the gaze of the merchant. His ears twitched awkwardly and he fussed with the sleeve of Keith’s white shirt. 

The merchant swung around swiftly, rifling through the hangers that were packed so tightly it was hard to see anything. He pulled out another white shirt and handed it to Lance. Ruffles billowed from the chest and Lance fought with the shirt for a moment, trying to pull it over his head. One of his arms got stuck and when he had ripped it through the hole, he swung his arms, significantly unimpressed with how much movement he lost. 

“What do you think?” The merchant asked, presenting Lance to Pidge. 

Lance pulled the shirt away from his skin. The material was really thick and itchy, so he made a face.

“Do you have anything a little,” Pidge faltered for a second. “Less restrictive?”

The merchant glanced at Lance again. “Less restrictive?”

Pidge looked Lance up and down, appraising Keith’s clothes and the merchants. 

“Yeah,” he decided. “Like maybe no shirt.”

The merchant raised an eyebrow and looked at Lance again as he struggled to take the shirt off. Damn these sleeves!

“Oh, is he a prostitute?”

Pidge appeared caught off guard as his face turned as red as some of the fruits Lance had seen in the market. He quickly regained composure as he snorted.

“He’s not a prostitute.”

The merchant rehung the shirt and looked around his stand again. Lance wasn’t really sure how he ever found anything because if there was any organizational system in place here, Lance couldn’t see it. He waved a hand at Pidge. 

“It’s really no problem, sir. We have people of your tastes come through all the time looking for something.”

“People of my tastes?” Pidge sputtered. Lance was fascinated by the shade of color his face was, but he didn’t quite understand what was going on. He leaned towards Pidge. 

“What’s a prostitute?” He asked. Pidge sputtered again, pushing him away and clapping a hand to their face. 

“I’m not explaining that to you!” 

The merchant swept around his stand again, pulling clothes from the racks before putting them back. Eventually, he seemed to find the articles of clothing he was looking for. 

“Ah, this!” He cried, pushing a bundle of fabric into Lance’s hands. “There’s a tent for changing next door.” Lance followed where he was pointing, where a smaller, completely covered vertical tent stood. Lance pushed his way through one fabric door and untied the other, allowing the flap of fabric to close behind him. 

When he emerged, he was carrying the remainder of Keith’s clothes in his arms. Pidge was waiting, boredly chatting with the merchant about where he could find the nearest mechanics stand. When he clocked him, his mouth fell open in shock. 

“Holy crap, I knew you were good looking, but like how?”

Lance beamed at his small friend. He felt much better in these clothes compared to Keith’s, and especially considered to that horrendous shirt the merchant had originally given him.

Sleek black leggings clung to his legs. It made him a little uncomfortable to have something so present on his skin, but they emphasized the shape of the legs Lance had worked so hard to create, which wrought a sense of intense pride in him everytime he looked down. Over the pants, a white sash was pinned, creating a ‘V’ around his waist and showing the lines of his hips. The sash hung in two parts, one piece of the fabric overlapping the other. 

Pidge tugged on the fabric and tested its durability. He stepped back and studied the entire outfit.   
“Do you happen to have this white fabric in blue?” 

“Yes, of course, sir.” He rummaged through a pile behind him and produced another sash, dyed a light blue that turned into a blue almost as dark as Lance’s tail. He unpinned the white sash from around Lance’s waist and replaced it with the dark blue one. Once he had repinned the silver pin, he looked to Pidge for confirmation. 

Pidge grinned at Lance, receiving a small smile in return. 

“Now your eyes really pop. Man, Keith is gonna lose his shit when he sees you!”

At the mention of the pirate captain, Lance frowned. Something stirred in his chest, but he forced those feelings down, tying them to his ribcage in untieable knots, so thick he’d never have to tie them again. In a sort of rebellion to Pidge’s comment, he re-buttoned the cloak around his shoulders and lifted the hood once again, effectively covering his new clothes and his figure. 

Pidge turned to the merchant. “How much do I owe you?”

He did the calculations on a paper he kept tucked into his robes. “15 silver.” He also produced a small bag, which Pidge unceremoniously dumped Keith’s borrowed clothes into.

Pidge dropped the silvers into the man’s hand and ushered Lance out of the tent. 

“We’re running out of time, so we need to hurry. Luckily, the clothing merchant said that there’s a guy who sells all sorts of parts a dozen or so stalls down from here.”

The rush began again, and Pidge bounded down the aisle, ignoring the calls of the many merchants around them. Lance pushed through the crowd, pushing against the arms and bags of the other people in the market. 

When Pidge stopped suddenly, Lance almost ran straight into him.

Pidge’s eyes had lit up like a guppy who had just seen their first hunt.The stand in front of them was covered in screws, bolts, and other various mechanical parts. Pidge uncoiled a cord as long as a sea snake. 

“Aw!” Pidge cried. “Look at all the cool parts here!”

Lance followed as he bounded up to the stand, peering at the parts that were scattered all over the stand.

Off to the side, the merchant sat, using a screwdriver to twist the insides of some box-like machine.

“Oh, look at this adapter!” Pidge squealed. 

Lance peered at the foreign object in Pidge's hand. “What even is that?” 

Before he got a response, Pidge had moved on, fawning and cooing over all the parts laid out on the stand.

They rummaged through a box, scrutinizing each individual part. 

“Can I help you find anything, sirs?” 

The merchant, a stout man with thick glasses, had stopped tinkering with his box to come aid them.

“Do you have some inputtable trackers?” Pidge asked.

“Hmmm, let’s see.” The merchant produced two parts from his organized chaos. “Which kind would you like?”

He held up two flat, square pieces of machinery, which Pidge eagerly took from him, examining them carefully.

Pidge and the merchant continued the exchange, comparing one part to another, but Lance tuned them out. Their tech talk didn't make a lick of sense to him.

He fidgeted with some of the bolts in front of him, stacking them in little towers that reminded him on the buildings around town, tall and uniform. 

Pidge tapped him on the shoulder, holding a small bag in his face. 

“All set. We can go now.” He beamed. 

“What are those parts even for?” Lance asked.

Pidge beamed down at the bag of parts as if it was a child who had just won their first award. 

“I’ve been working on a Galra sensor.” He explained. “Most Galrans use a type of sword made of metal only found in their country.”

Lance peered at the contents of the bag with a quirked eyebrow. 

“And whatever is in that bag is going to do that?”

“Well, I have to program it and attach it to the rest of the device I've made.”

Somehow, Lance couldn't really understand how any combination of little metal bits was going to do anything important like tracking Galran ships.

“Why are the Galra so insistent on following you guys?” Lance asked.

Pidge quickened his pace, forcing Lance to do the same.

“That may be better to ask Keith.”

“Why?” 

Pidge sighed, wringing his brown curls with his spare hand. He glanced at Lance, and was met with two blue eyes pleading for an explanation.

“Ugh,” Pidge groaned. “Fine. But you can't tell Keith I told you.”

That officially caught Lance’s attention, like a moth to a flame. Pidge leaned forwards and Lance followed suit so the two of them were hunched over, faces inches apart. 

“A while ago, the Galra captured another member of our crew. He meant a lot to Keith.” Pidge looked to the floor, his lips downturned. “He meant a lot to all of us. If I can build this device, we might be able to determine which Galran ships might have him aboard, since prisoner ships tend to be larger.” Determination creased Pidge’s forehead, their eyes hard behind the lenses of their glasses. 

Lance wanted to ask more about this mysterious other crew member, but before he could, Pidge had swiftly perked up.

“Look! That shop over there has a flame coil!”

Pidge danced his way across the aisle of the market in his excitement. Lance made to follow, albeit a bit less excitedly, but suddenly a man knocked into Lance, pushing him harshly. He tried to hold out a hand to steady himself, but there was nothing around him but other people. He fell forward, hitting the dirt with his hands and knees. People around him made noises of surprise as they flowed around him, not bothering to give him a hand. There was a fresh sting in Lance’s knees, burning and acute. He took a deep breath to catch his breath before he pushed himself back up from the ground. 

Lance looked around the marketplace, but he no longer saw Pidge anywhere. A man with a fancy top hat perused some books from a used bookshop, a mother browsed the cheapest fabrics as her toddler clung to her skirts, and a kid covered in dirt from head to toe slipped an apple into the pocket of his ratty, torn jacket. All of these people were around, and of course the crowd moved steadily forward, but Pidge was nowhere to be found. 

For a minute, fear struck Lance’s heart as he realized he was alone in a strange place with little to no knowledge of its happenings and dealings. Then his gaze settled on the tallest tower, stretching a million miles into the sky like a home for the birds. The bell tower watched over the city, watched over him. He knew the time and place they would meet. He would meet up with the rest of the crew when the bell rang. 

But in the meantime, it couldn’t hurt to have some fun.

He paraded along the aisle, taking the time he hadn’t had to look at all the merchants wares. The crowd jostled him along, including someone who bumped into him with so much force that the hood of his cloak fell from atop his head. Revealing his identity seemed to increase the number of people who smiled and called to him, but he didn’t bother re-adjusting it.

“Sir, this pocket watch is going for a discounted price of 20 silver!” 

“Sir! Look at these homemade skin potions!”

Lance slid from stand to stand, charming each merchant with a blinding smile and a brief conversation about what they were selling. By the time their brief interaction was over, the merchants were wondering if Lance had convinced them to buy something from him, rather than the other way around. 

“Sir! Sir, over here!”

A higher pitched voice beckoned him, and Lance turned around to see a stall manned by a young woman. A hat covered the top of her head, but her long, dark hair sat on her shoulders in two braids. Her skin was darker than Lance’s, and her eyes were a deep, rich brown not unsimilar to Hunk’s eyes. 

He strode towards her stall, which was decorated lavishly in jewelry. He pretended to be interested in examining the jewelry for a second before looking back up at her. 

“Wow, the jewelry here is almost as beautiful as you.” His smile shone, and the girl giggled. 

“You’re not too bad looking yourself.” She leaned towards Lance, her eyes alight with mischief. “If you bought some of my wares, you’d look even better.”

Her perfectly manicured nails scratched at Lance’s skin like the claws of a bird snatching a baby sea turtle from the sand. 

“Maybe if you do me a small favor, I’ll give you something for free.”

When Lance looked the girl in the eye again, he saw her eyes ended their resemblance to Hunk’s with the color. Her eyes weren’t warm or kind, but filled with greed. His smile widened as he tried to pretend he hadn’t noticed her intention. 

“Oh?” He swallowed. “Is that so?” He fingered some of the accessories displayed on her table. Two complex armbands caught his attention. They were a simple band of metal with thin chains hanging off it. In the very center of this arrangement was a piece of blue sea glass fashioned into a crystal. 

In his home, the same sea glass was used to make art, sculptures, and jewelry. He hadn’t known that the humans also used sea glass in their jewelry. Although sea glass was considered “the poor merfolk’s jewel”, even the royal family used it occasionally for its durability and colors. 

The girl leaned in so close that Lance could feel the gentle wind of her breath on his face. Her hand cupped his face, her claws dangerously close to his throat.

In that instant, he made a decision. He channeled all his intent into his words.   
“I think you should give me these.” He pointed out the two arm bands. Immediately, the girl’s eyes glassed over and she became solely focused on listening to Lance. 

“Those would look magnificent on you.” She agreed. 

“Maybe you could remove your hands from my face and help me put them on?” He asked it like it was a question, but with the power of intention behind it, it was more of a demand.

Her hand slid from his skin like a snake, and she picked up the arm bands. Lance lifted an arm towards her, and one at a time, she helped him put on the bands. When she was done, her hands fell to her sides. 

The band was nowhere near as elegantly designed as the bands Lance wore at home sometimes, but he thought the simplicity of it was beautiful. Besides, all sea glass was similar, the same smooth texture, the same pale color he remembered some of it being. The weight on his arms was familiar and grounding, a little piece of home away from home.

“Maybe you’ll come back and get a drink with me sometime.” The girl flashed him another smile with her glassy eyes, but suddenly Lance was completely sober of any illusioned interest, replaced with an intense curiosity. 

“A drink?” He asked.

The girl looked at him with charmed earnest. 

“Y’know, like an alcoholic beverage?” She said. “The Black Cat tavern is well known for serving the best drinks in town.” She laughed again. “Then again, The Black Cat is the _only_ tavern in this town.”

“Where is it?” 

The girl leaned out over the barrier of her stand. “If you follow this path until the end, you’re practically at its doorstep,” She said, pointing.

“Thanks, but forget it, I’ll get myself a drink,” Lance said. He released all intention and the girl stumbled back, bracing herself against her stand. She blinked a few times, as if she had just woken up. She wouldn’t remember anything had happened, but it would take a few minutes for her to completely come out of the trance. Lance disappeared into the crowd before she could take real notice of him.

True to the girl’s word, the Black Cat tavern was at the end of the aisle, lining the border where the market met the “unclean” parts of the town or the small businesses that couldn’t survive without the influence of the market. 

The building was short and rather grubby. The once white stones of the exterior had begun to be invaded by the leering arms of the green vines growing over it. Large tinted glass windows bordered the door, where a sign hung overhead that stated the tavern’s name. 

Man, he was going to have so many great stories to tell later. 

The door to the tavern opened with a creak, the floorboards protesting even more loudly as Lance made his way to the bar. The bar itself stretched along the wall, a stretch of dark mahogany wood as smooth and shiny as a fresh sheet of ice on the water in the winter. In fact, it was the only part of the bar that looked like it was regularly taken care of and cherished. 

The bar’s patrons were settled into booths that lined the other walls and round tables that filled the space in between the booths and the bar. It was still a bit early for the bar to be full, but the town’s drunks and travelers were present. 

Lance sidled up to the bar, garnering the attention of the bartender. 

“What can I get you?” She asked, slinging the rag she had been using to polish the bar over her shoulder. Lance faltered. He had never had one of these alcoholic beverages before. There was some sort of sign posted behind the bartender, but when he tried to make sense of the words, they swam before his eyes in indecipherable hieroglyphics.

The bartender tapped her pale fingers on the surface of the bar impatiently. Another man at the end of the bar slammed a silver coin down and shouted for her to refill his cup, to which she gave him a sickeningly sweet smile. 

“One of whatever you think is best,” Lance said after a moment with a shrug. The bartender raised her eyebrows at him, but then gave him that sickeningly sugar sweet smile and she was gone. 

She flew down the bar to top up the other customer’s glass. Then she reappeared with a clean glass and placed it in front of Lance. She pulled out a dark brown bottle of liquid from under the bar and poured it into the glass. He took the glass with a nod of thanks and looked at the other patrons sitting at the bar. 

A young woman was perched on the stool, twirling her glass between her fingertips idly. The liquid in her cup threatened to spill over the edges of her glass, but she maintained control. Lance sauntered up to her, taking a seat on the stool next to her. 

“What’s a pretty lady like you doing here?” Lance asked, showing his most winning smile. Smiling was a little weird with the small rounded teeth of a human, but he supposed it was probably less threatening. 

The woman turned to him, tossing her long ponytail over her shoulder. On her forehead was a small tattoo, an arrow pointing downwards towards her nose. She eyed Lance for a moment before her lips upturned. 

“I think the more interesting question is what a mer like you is doing so far from the sea?”

Lance’s smile dropped and he reeled back in surprise. “You can tell?”

The girl giggled, lifting a hand to cover her lips. “I’ve been around. Besides, you didn’t cover your face markings.”

Lance laughed sheepishly. “I didn’t think anyone would know what they meant.”

She hummed. “I didn’t know they had meanings.”

The woman took a sip of her drink and Lance followed suit. The taste was bitter on his tongue and he wrinkled his nose in disgust. Who would willingly drink this? The woman laughed again, the sound light. 

She took Lance’s drink from his hand and lifted it to her lips. As she swallowed, her own face pinched. She coughed and the pink from her lipstick remained on the rim of the cup.

“Hell, that’s strong,” she said. “Do you always drink like that?”

Lance flushed red, embarrassed. “No, I’ve never drank before.”

 

She laughed. “Somehow, that doesn’t surprise me, fishboy. Try something like this. The alcohol isn’t as strong.” She offered her own cup to Lance.

At his hesitation, she shook the cup a little, the liquid inside twirling towards the rim of the cup. Her eyes were lighthearted and honest, unlike the jewelry merchant Lance had met earlier.

“It’s not poisoned, I promise.”

Slowly, he took the cup from her and took a drink. He was expecting the same bitter, burning feeling as it traveled down his throat, but it was pleasantly fruity. His eyes widened as he took another small sip before handing the cup back to its owner. 

“See? Much better, right?” She took another sip, sighing happily. Her cheeks were pink under the influence. She stuck out her slender hand with painted pink nails. “I’m Ezor by the way. Do you have a name, fishboy?”

“Lance,” he said, shaking her hand. 

“Will you tell me what the markings mean?” She slumped onto her arms.

Lance copied her pose, so that the two of them were touching elbows on the bar, faces inches apart from each other. 

“Well, each line means something different, but in general, they’re meant to guide your future and give you good luck,” he swirled his strongly alcoholic drink. “What does your marking mean?”

She appeared surprised that he had asked, but then she smiled fondly, touching the small triangle that was tattooed on her forehead gently. 

“I know this may be hard to believe, but I wasn’t always the brightest kid in school, y’know? I had big dreams, but I was a scrawny kid who was failing in school.” Her fingers drummed on the wood before she calmed them. “Everyone thought I was shallow and that I would never accomplish my dream, but I was determined.”

She slowly traced the lines of the triangle with her nail and Lance waited patiently for her to continue. 

“I worked really hard, and studied and trained as much as possible. Finally I was the person I aspired to be and I was accepted into my dream job. I got this tattoo to represent the idea of an arrow. Straight and fast.” Ezor giggled, hiding her smile in the crook of her elbow. 

“I suppose that could be a bad joke, but to me, it means that as long as I have dedication, I’ll make it down whatever path I chose, just like an arrow. I see my face in the mirror every morning and remind myself of that.”

Lance was about to ask her what her dream job was when he heard the chiming of the bell, a lot louder than it had been when he and the crew had decided to split up. He shot up in his seat, his eyes wide with panic. 

“Holy Goddess, I have to go! That damned pirate will leave without me and then I’ll be stranded here!” He quickly stood, straightening his cloak and putting the hood back up.

Ezor’s eyes widened as she also sat up. “Pirate?” She asked. 

Lance sighed. “It’s a long story.”

“Well, you have time. I’ll go with you back to your ship.”

As the two acquaintances left the bar, the bartender screamed for them to come back and pay. However, the bells rang overbearingly above, stirring the anxiety in Lance’s chest. Lance darted down the path of the market, dodging people and their baggage. Surprisingly, Ezor kept pace. 

 

As they sprinted down the path, Ezor berated him with questions. 

“Why are you with a pirate?” She asked. 

“He captured me.” Lance said. “Well, I mean, I guess that’s a technicality. He actually took me aboard to heal my wounds after some men attacked my island.”

“Some men?”

“Yeah, Galra or whatever. I don’t pay attention to human politics, to be honest.”

“Who’s the pirate?”

“ _Captain_ Keith Kogane.” Lance rolled his eyes, drawing out the word ‘captain’ mockingly. “He’s a real _asshole_ ,” Lance grumbled. “He’ll definitely leave me behind just for being late, since he _knows_ he’s my only option at this point. That’s how much of an asshole he is.”

The gates of the meeting place came into sight and Lance breathed a sigh of relief. Lance could see the members of the _Red Lion_ huddled together. Pidge was hunched over, clearly being scolded by Keith, who was pacing back and forth. As Lance sprinted the last stretch of ground between them, he could hear Keith yelling.

“How could you just lose him, Pidge? He’s a stupid fish, he doesn’t know anythin-”

“Lance!” Hunk cried, drawing the attention of the other two. 

Keith spun around, his boots kicking up dirt. Pidge looked like the weight of the world had been lifted off his shoulders. 

“Lance! You’re late! Where the bloody hell have you-” Keith stopped abruptly. In fact, all three crew members of the _Red Lion_ froze in their tracks.

“I’m sorry I was late, I lost track of time.” Lance apologized. He turned to Ezor. 

“Thanks for running back with me. And for the drinks.”

However, Ezor’s eyes were no longer trained on him. Her hand was at her belt, an iron grip on her sword. 

“Keith Kogane. You are a wanted man by the Empire. Under the charges of piracy, terrorism, and treason against the Galran Empire, you will be arrested.” A smile was still plastered on her face.

Keith grimaced. He looked at Lance, an unusual calmness in his eyes. 

“Lance, would you like to tell me how you came to have drinks with one of the main generals of the Galran army?” 

Lance looked back at Ezor. He looked past her honest eyes, her beautiful hair tied back in a ponytail that bounced when she moved, and that triangle tattoo, straight and fast. She was wearing a uniform, not quite like the ones the men who invaded his island had been wearing, but definitely of a similar design. Her bodysuit was a dark purple, the armor covering it as black as ash. There were some orange and pink highlights, but yeah. She was definitely Galran. 

Now that he had seen it, he couldn’t unsee it. Lance stared at her, his eyes wide. For someone who had seemed so friendly a few minutes ago, she now had a dangerous air about her. 

“It’s been awhile, huh Keith?” She asked, stretching her arm calmly. “It may be time for your adventures as a pirate to end.”

He unsheathed his sword.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come chat with me at my tumblr: [celestial-caster](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/celestial-caster)
> 
> Or go give Holden some love for his art at [Saltwater-paladin](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/saltwater-paladin)


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The crew of the Red Lion play with swords

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What? Is this a miracle? It's only been a week guys! I didn't want to leave you all hanging for too long, so clap on the back to me and Holden for getting this chapter out! Hope you guys enjoy!

“Get away from her,” Keith repeated, but Lance didn’t need to be prompted. He had already begun to edge away from Ezor, until he was within the protection of Keith’s blade.

The rest of the group had edged up behind Keith, their own weapons drawn, awaiting their captain’s signal.

Ezor smirked. When she moved, her ponytail flicked with a _swish_.

     “What happened Keith? I thought you would’ve been so excited to see me after all this time.” She smiled at Lance, her blue irises alight with cheer. “Your new fishboy and I had so much fun trading stories, right Lance?”

Keith stepped in front of Lance, holding out a hand to hold back his crew.

    “I’m not going back with you.” he growled.

    “You might not have much of a choice.”

From the crowd, more Galran soldiers materialized. Hunk stepped forward, his musketoon glinting in the sunlight.

Keith exchanged a look with Ezor. Her eyes glinted with the same light of the weaponry. Keith surveyed the scene one more time.

“Everyone, back to the ship!” Keith said.

    “Oh? Retreating again, Keith?” Ezor asked, quirking an eyebrow. “Men, fight!”

The next few moments were pure chaos. The Galra drew their swords as _Red_ ’s crew fought their way back towards the docks.

Keith was a whirlwind, slashing through the hordes of men as they came at him, brandishing their uniform swords. Their blades were slightly curved, which gave them the advantage for speed, but Keith made sure he was just as quick on his feet, twirling around the men as if doing a complicated dance where neither dancer knew what his partner would do next.

Pidge hacked and slashed with his sword. His moves were a little predictable, but with a fell cut, one of the Galran men fell to the marketplace floor. He moved to tackle another, but one of the Galra crept up behind him.

With the thrash of a well aimed boot, Pidge went sprawling into one of the stands, slamming his head against the wood. A few apples toppled from the tower of fruit precariously stacked above, rolling onto the ground. The Galra that Pidge had been attacking and his attacker teamed up, pressing Pidge into a corner.

In a flash, Keith had cut the two of them down from behind, before either one even had a second to cry out. He offered a hand to Pidge, who took it gladly, nodding his thanks to Keith.

Meanwhile, Lance was trying to dodge all the Galra racing at him. He wasn’t armed with anything, not even a dagger. He would have been thankful for anything, even Pidge’s sword at this point. The sea was just out of reach, rendering his powers useless.

One of the Galran men swung a sword at him, and he quickly ducked under, gliding past the man. He darted around another, backing away from his sword. Suddenly arms were cinched around his waist, holding him in place. He shifted his teeth back into their sharper form, rolling his tongue over the points. Twisting his head, he tried to bite into the man’s flesh, but he couldn’t quite twist his head far enough. The arm around his waist was covered in a thick shield of armor.

Lance panicked, writhing in the man’s grip, trying to break free. The man squeezed the air out of his lungs. He couldn’t be captured again. What would that mean for the Goddess’ Curse? Would he lie in debt to two people? Wasn’t Keith bad enough? What would that mean for him? Goddess have mercy on him. Sure, he and Keith didn’t get along, but it wasn’t always awful. Keith had even taken care of him when he had shifted for the first time.

Suddenly, Hunk appeared, holding his musketoon. It was a short range weapon, but with his height came long legs, and Hunk quickly closed the distance between the Galran and himself. His fingers adeptly loaded the gun and with the pull of a trigger, fired the ball inside at the soldier, who dropped Lance to the ground.

Lance wasn’t sure where Hunk had been hiding the large weapon, it had to be about two or three feet long. Although Hunk was strong enough to carry it, he generally only carried his musketoon if there was a Galra ship sighted in the area near them and he was expecting a fight.

The sound of Hunk’s gun rang in his ears, as well as the groans of the fallen soldier, eerily similar to the sounds of the men and the horses that day on the beach. For a minute, Lance felt like he could hear the sound of the waves crashing around him, sand flying as the Goddess’ sacred horses, the animals he so lovingly looked after crashed to the ground, their last breaths whistling through their nostrils.

Hunk studied him as he wheezed for air and tried to regain control of his breathing, and after a minute, he confirmed he was okay and they fought their way through the crowd together. Lance would distract the Galra men while Hunk loaded his gun and then fired.

The _Red Lion_ came into sight, her beautiful sails open and ready to catch the breeze, wood shining in the sunlight.

They scrambled onto the ship, tumbling over one another as they struggled to get into position, dumping the bags of supplies they had been carrying onto the floor.

    “Pidge, raise the anchor!” Keith yelled, wheezing for breath, a hand to his rib cage. “Hunk, come help me pull up the ramp!”

They each ran to their respective spots. Lance followed Pidge and helped him haul the anchor from its sandy bed, heaving it aboard.

The Galra had swarmed the docks by now, and they scanned the jolly rogers in the sky for the icon they were looking for. Many started to board their own ship, the Galran cross proudly flying above in the gentle afternoon breeze.

As soon as Keith and Hunk finished pulling up the ramp, Keith yelled, “Haul off!”

The ship began to move out of the shallow waters, and Hunk began to fuss with the sails.

    “She’s not moving any faster!” He panicked.

Nearing the edge of the railing, Lance raised his arms and with all the force he could muster, he swung his arms in the direction he wanted the water to take the ship. By some miracle, the water obeyed his will, even when he looked like a human.

He let out a breath, slumping against the rail. Goddess, holding his human form and using his powers took a lot of energy. He had thought he had had more than enough energy for something like that. When he looked at Keith, he almost expected a look of gratitude. Almost.

There was a storm behind his eyes, lightning flashing. Keith stormed towards Lance, fists balled, scowl ever present.

    “Are you an idiot? Befriending a Galran? One of the most valued generals, really, Lance?”

    “I didn’t know she was a Galran general!” Lance said angrily. “I just saved your ship from being captured!”

He grabbed Lance by the collar of his cloak, pulling the boy straight upwards. His grip was like iron and resistance was futile.

“That doesn’t matter, considering you brought her to our ship to begin with.” Keith hissed. “Do you realize how much danger you put us all in by bringing her to us? Just by associating with her, she now knows we have a mer on board. What else did you tell her?”

Lance shrank into himself. “Nothing,” He whimpered.

Keith opened his mouth like he was going to snap again, but before he could, Hunk wailed behind them.

“Another one?” Hunk shrieked. “You have got to be kidding me!”

Keith dropped Lance, releasing him from his tight grip and both boys flew to peer over the deck. Another ship, a regal warship armed to the brim with men, tailed them. The main sails were white, but she flew no flag marking her identity.

    “Seven hells,” Keith swore. “Is that another Galra ship? Why are so many here?”

    “Help me add another sail!” Hunk called. Pidge ran to his aid, and together they opened another sail, allowing the wind to push against the white sheet. Lance wrung his hands together, feeling utterly unuseful.

Despite their efforts, the other ship was still gaining on the _Red Lion_ , sliding atop the water as if it were a slippery sheet of ice.

    “Can’t you do something?” Pidge asked as they turned to Lance, desperation breaking their voice.

Lance focused on the push and pull of the waves, trying to make them bend to his will, to pull them away from the enemy ship and push the enemies away. The effort was futile as the waves ignored him and kept rolling away. He lifted his hands helplessly. Pidge huffed, dashing along to the next task.

The enemy ship slid up to the side of their port. A few of the men aboard threw a board over, connecting the two ships as they sailed side by side.

Everyone gripped their weapons, their knuckles pale on the hilt. The enemy ship was stacked with a large crew, all strong men armed with sharpened swords. The tension aboard the _Red Lion_ was so thick it could cut like one of those swords.

Two sailors darted across the ramp, invading the deck of Red. They threw themselves into the midst of the group, supporting each other back to back.

Lance blinked. Only two? That ship had no shortage of crew members, all who looked thoroughly trained to use weaponry. Were they just delaying their arrival? He looked around, but the rest of the _Red Lion_ ’s crew looked just as confused as he was.

Things got even more confusing as he assessed the two invaders. One was a woman, dressed in dark pants, with black boots up to her knees and silver armor. A short blue cape hung behind her, her silver hair tied up in a tight bun. From her belt, the sheath for a cavalry sword hung.

The cavalry sword was in her hand, straight as a ruler and sharpened on both sides. The hilt was the color of the sun and shone so brightly that Lance had no doubts the gold was real. On the silver of the blade, something was engraved, the letters etched deeply into the face, elegant marks swirling around them, dancing into patterns.

The other member was an older gentleman, with hair as red as fire. His hair was slicked back, except for one singular strand that hung over his eyes. His lip was covered with a thick mustache, neatly trimmed. He wore a similar outfit to the woman, a blue cape snugly over his shoulders, boots up to his knees, but with a long dark blue jacket and an eyepatch tied over one eye. He carried dual multi-barreled pistols, both of which seemed to have some fancy design engraved in silver on its frame.

Something seemed very off. Even though the world of piracy was still new to Lance, it seemed strange that this woman would have such a large weapon to use in such a small space and their outfits seemed too clean, like neither of them had ever been in a pirate’s fight before.

The ramp was suddenly pulled back, stranding the two warriors on the _Red Lion_. The woman and the man from the enemy crew circled slowly, taking in the faces of Red’s crew. Then woman’s eye caught onto Keith, who was still standing straight and proud, his weapon drawn.

    “This is it?” She asked. “Who is your leader?”

    “I’m the captain here,” Keith snarled.

With a graceful flick of her wrist, she was pointing her elegant sword straight at Keith.

    “Relinquish control of my ship.” Her beautiful eyes narrowed to slits, the face paint under her eyes making her look more fierce.

Hunk and Pidge stepped forward, threatening the intruders with their own weapons. The man with fire for hair stepped between them, cutting off their path to the young woman. He had the same face paint she did, right under his eyes.

Hunk and Pidge exchanged a look, and with a nod advanced towards the man. He drew both of his pistols.

Lance cowered by the main mast of the ship, watching the scene unfold. When he tried to skirt around Pidge, Hunk, and the intruder, the man pointed the barrel of one pistol straight at him, threatening to shoot him if he got any closer to where Keith and the woman were having a standoff.

Both of their swords were drawn, nearly as sharp as their gazes. The silver of the woman’s sword was almost as light as her hair. It was an elegant blade, flowers engraved upon the face, creating an air of fragility and delicacy in the strong hand of the woman wielding it. Despite the strangeness of that particular weapon, Lance had no doubt she knew how to use it. Considering the look in her eyes, Lance didn’t have a doubt that if she wanted, that woman could take out an entire crew by herself. Clearly, she had planned to.

Although Keith’s shoulders were drawn with the pressure of fighting for his ship, it was clear he didn’t have any idea who this woman was. Compared to how rigid Keith had been when facing off with Ezor, his posture was loose, slumped, his fingers holding his sword as if he had been born with it in his hand.

    “This is my ship.” He replied, voice as steady as his hands.

With no warning, the woman slashed her sword, which Keith instinctively blocked. The clang of the swords rang across the deck and across the way, the men aboard the intruder’s ship cheered. Lance glanced at the enemy ship and saw that all the men had crowded around the rail of the ship, watching the events unfold, same as he was. For the first time, he also noticed that all the men were wearing the same uniform, a crisp, clean white uniforms, with blue sleeves and an insignia crossing their chests.

As the two grappled for control, a silver strand of hair fell in the woman’s face. She pushed it away quickly, but Keith took advantage of her few seconds of distraction. He smacked her sword, and it clattered to the deck. Keith advanced towards her.

The red haired man stepped forward to help, but the woman shook her head and gave him a meaningful look. Although Keith had her pinned between himself and the deep dark sea, armed with only her fists, there was a steady calm in her eyes.

Slowly, like a lion trying not to startle prey, Keith took another step towards her. The woman never broke eye contact. In seconds, her hand had flashed out and Keith’s dagger was gripped between her graceful fingers. He reeled back, but she was faster. She shoulder checked Keith, pushing him to the floorboards of the Red Lion. Straddling his torso, she held the knife to his throat. Lance could see his adam’s apple as he swallowed shallowly.

    “Make no mistake, pirate.” The woman said, her voice cool. “I know my ship when I see it, even when you change her sails and paint over her name.”

Keith’s eyes widened, his grasp on his sword slipping. The woman kicked his blade away from it and Lance winced as the sword that Keith worked so hard to keep polished nicely scratched against the floor and slammed into the rail. The rest of the Red Lion’s crew blinked, too stunned to move. Clearly, seeing Keith lose was a rare occurrence.

    “Who are you?” Keith growled. The woman pressed the dagger to his throat a little more. There was an indent where the blade rested.

    “My name is Allura, princess of Altea. You are charged with the crime of piracy and treason of the Altean crown.”

Pidge and Hunk gasped, their weapons going slack in their hands. The red haired man made a little noise of disapproval in the back of his throat, and Allura’s eyes snapped to him.

    “I know what I’m doing Coran. This crew is barely fit to go up against another pirate ship, much less us.”

    “Of course, Princess.” Coran said, sliding his guns into the leather holster at his belt.

Keith had frozen under the princess’ grip, all the fight in his bones leaking through the floorboards.

    “You’re the princess of Altea?” Keith asked, his voice almost a whimper.

Allura regarded him through narrowed eyes, looking at him as if he was the dirt under her feet.

    “Yes. You and the rest of your crew will be taken to Altea to serve your time for stealing one of Altea’s ships. Fair warning, your sentence for piracy of Altean property will not be light. Now I demand to know what you have done to the crew aboard this ship.”

    “Nothing, I left them at a port.” Keith said, his brow still creased.

Allura sneered. “Don’t lie to me, pirate. You _know_ who I am now, and what I can do to you. If the men were at a port, Altea would have heard word of this from the captain by now.”

    “It’s the truth, Princess!” Pidge exclaimed.

Pidge and Hunk had both stepped towards Keith, but Coran put out a hand to stop them. Pidge used his small size to duck under the taller man’s arm. He sheathed his sword and knelt in a clumsy bow.

    “Your highness, we mean you no harm. We serve the king.”

Allura turned her attention to Pidge, her blue eyes as cold as ice. She didn’t remove her knee from where it was placed on Keith’s chest, or the blade from where it hovered above his throat.

    “You serve my father?” She scoffed. “Altea doesn’t hire pirates and besides, pirates serve no one. Everyone knows that.”

    “Shiro served the king,” Keith rasped.

Allura’s eyes snapped back to Keith, who laid panting under the blazing sun. He looked rather pale, sweat dripping down his forehead. A pang of concern shot through Lance before he dismissed it. Something filled Allura’s eyes. Determination, anger, and possibly something akin to hope.

    “What happened to Takeshi Shirogane?” Allura demanded, replacing the dagger at Keith’s throat.

“Captured,” he coughed.

For a brief second, Lance thought he saw something like worry flicker across the princess’ face, but it was gone as quickly as the wind. Allura pressed the blade harder to his skin, despite the noise of protest Coran made behind her. Blood beaded along Keith’s neck.

“What have you done to Captain Takeshi Shirogane?” Allura demanded again, more insistently.

    “Shiro,” Keith said, his voice quiet and distant, eyes trained on the sky, “is my brother.”

    “Wait. Back up a second,” Lance said, cutting in. He was tired of being left out as the only one who didn’t have a bloody clue what the hell was going on. “Who’s Shiro?”

Allura had sat back heavily on the deck, the knife limp in her hand. Keith sat up, rubbing his hand around his throat. The cut was shallow, but the area around it had slightly purpled. Coran had abandoned his post of moderating the rest of the crew and flew to Allura’s side. His rested a hand on her shoulder, and she gladly relaxed into his embrace. She took a deep breath, clearing her face of emotion.

    “Explain. Shiro never mentioned a younger brother.”

Keith straightened his jacket and pushed the hair from his eyes. He looked worse for wear, but when he spoke, his voice sounded closer to normal.

    “First, give me back my dagger.”

Allura clutched the dagger to her chest. “What? No way! What, so you can turn around and kill me?”

    “I won’t kill you. Pidge wasn’t lying when he said that we serve Altea and King Alfor. But no dagger, no explanation.”

    Allura exchanged a look with Coran. When he nodded, she hesitantly held out the knife. Keith took it from her, quickly glancing at the weapon for any damage before putting the dagger in its proper place in the sheath at his belt. He cracked the muscles in his fingers and stretched his arms before sighing.

    “He’s not my blood brother, but he’s better than any blood brother of mine.” Keith scowled. “We met during his latest sailing mission. We helped each other through a rough time. He’s my brother for all intents and purposes.”

Keith had brothers? This was news to Lance. A deep longing itched his heart as he thought of his own siblings. When he got back home, his older sister was going to annoy him to no end until he told her every detail of his affair with the pirates. He was looking forward to hearing the sound of her voice though. His brother would pull his tail for being gone so long, but then he would hug him, enwrapping Lance in his beautiful coral colored tail, strong and sharp, but only gentle when it came to his younger brother.

Allura quirked an elegant eyebrow. “Rough time?”

Keith looked away at the sky again. “Yeah,” he said finally. “A rough time. Anyways, Shiro helped me and gave me a place to stay on the _Red Lion_ , formerly known as _The Voltron_ , when I had some… issues at home.”

“Why did you paint over her name if you still serve Alfor?” Coran asked.

Keith shrugged. “She’s not the same ship. Maybe in bone, but not spirit. I’m not the captain my brother was.”

Keith’s eyes had taken a darker shine to them as he spoke and Lance wanted to question him on it. This conversation was raising more and more questions for him. Keith made it sound like he was an inferior captain compared to Shiro. Lance had never met this guy but begrudgingly, even Lance would admit that Keith was a good captain. He hadn’t seen anything to suggest otherwise. The guy loved his ship and his crew and would bend over backwards for either of them.

Thinking of praise for Keith made Lance’s stomach do weird flip flops. Even if Keith was a good leader sometimes, he was still an asshole. End of story. That thought made Lance feel a little better, although a small weight still sat in his gut.

    “Besides,” Keith continued. “I don’t really think Altea wants a pirate ship advocating for it, considering that whole ‘no pirates’ thing some of the countries have going on.”

Coran twirled his mustache between his fingers thoughtfully. “Hmm, a good point, my boy.”

Allura looked a little disgruntled that Keith was winning over Coran’s trust.

    “Either way, why was it necessary for _The Voltron_ to become a pirate ship then?”

    “That’s a good question,” Hunk said, scratching his head. “Why did we become pirates?”

Lance and Hunk turned to Pidge, expecting an answer, but he also shrugged his shoulders.

    “It was Keith’s decision. Shiro always considered him as a sort of second-in-command, so I just went with it.”

The group turned back to Keith, awaiting an answer. Keith blinked.

“I know that Shiro was captured by Galran men. If I wanted to attract the attention of the Galra, all I had to do was become a pirate. Pirates are outlawed in Galra, so Galran bounty hunters are plentiful and they sail the seas rounding up prisoners. If I want to find Shiro, I need to find a bounty hunter that can get me to the same place.”

For a minute, everyone was dead quiet, just staring at Keith, who stared back with his beautiful violet eyes, deeper than the ocean. Lance was the first to speak.

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

Keith blinked again.

“You became a pirate just so you could get arrested?”

“It’s the fastest way to find Shiro!” Keith said defensively.

“I don’t even know who Shiro is!” Lance cried, throwing his arms up.

“I told you, he’s my brother!”

“What does that even mean?”

“Boys, separate.” Allura ordered, pushing Lance and Keith away from each other. Lance blinked. He hadn’t even realized that they had gotten that close to each other in the heat of the moment.  “Keith, explain from the beginning.”

Keith fell silent, his eyes dropping to his feet.

“I can explain,”  Hunk offered, stepping forward.

Allura gave a curt nod. “Fine. Go ahead.”

Hunk spread his hands. “Everything started fine. I got this job as a cook aboard _The Voltron_ and Pidge was one of our shipwrights. The mission was to deliver the cargo from Balmera to Altea, which I figured was supposed to be relatively simple and safe. Obviously Shiro was the commanding captain. We ended up stopping at a port and we picked up Keith, for reasons undisclosed by Shiro, and because he and Shiro were so close, he basically became the unofficial second in command.”

Allura shot a look at Keith, distrust clear in her eyes. Lance hung to every word, curious about the origin of the pirates who had captured him.

    “What about you?” Coran asked, placing a hand on Lance’s shoulder and drawing him from his thoughts.  “You don’t look like you’re from anywhere I’ve ever been.”

    “I’m, uh,” Lance hesitated. Technically he had been captured, but he didn’t feel right saying it anymore. He still wasn’t sure about Keith, but he had had a lot of fun hanging out with Pidge and Hunk. By the Goddess, Hunk had even saved his life earlier. “I’m here due to some unfortunate circumstances.” He said finally.

Coran nodded, lifting his hand from his shoulder and letting the subject drop.

”Anyways, a Galra ship attacked us one morning. We fought them off for as long as possible, but they fought dirty and well, most of the men on a merchant ship aren’t really the best fighters. Hunk and I hid in the galley when we realized we were being overtaken.” Pidge admitted. “We had watched Keith be dragged off the ship and we couldn’t find Shiro anywhere. We thought he had been killed.”

“It’s my fault.” Keith said miserably. They all turned their attention back to the captain, who was looking very _un_ captain-like at the moment, slumped into himself, his shoulders drawn and brow tightened, making him seem smaller than he was.

    “It’s not-” Pidge started to object, but Keith cut him off.

    “It is! I was caught by one of the more important members of the Galra empire.” He hesitated, his fingers fiddling with the hilt of his sword. They crew waited patiently for him to continue. Without lifting his eyes from his blade, he said, “Shiro came to rescue me. The Galra overwhelmed him and I couldn’t save him.”

The curse around Keith lashed around his body, tightening and blackening where his heart was hidden under the fabric of his shirt and the skin of his chest. Lance hummed thoughtfully. Perhaps that was where Keith picked up that ugly curse of his. It would make sense, considering that most curses tended to take a physical toll on the victim’s body after being cast. Judging from what Keith had said, Keith was clearly very devoted to him. He wouldn’t let anything happen to him unless he was physically too weak to help him.

 

    “All the men had either jumped ship, been killed, or taken prisoner. We were the only ones left.” Hunk continued. “The Galra took whatever it was they came for and left. Pidge and I sailed the ship to the nearest port, where we found Keith washed ashore with a capsized dinghy.”

Allura’s blue eyes were blown wide as she exchanged a look with Coran. “What did the Galra take?”

    Hunk shrugged. “They don’t tell kitchen staff what’s being transported.”

Pidge rubbed the back of his neck. “I might have sneaked a look at the cargo,” he said sheepishly. “There were a lot of barrels of this weird liquid.”

    “Just as I thought, quintessence.” Coran said solemnly.

Allura ran a hand through her hair, pulling several strands out of her bun. “This is very bad.” She muttered. “Very bad.”

Lance perked up. “Quintessence? Like the stuff that makes the crystals glow under the sea?”

Allura wrinkled her nose in confusion. “Yes, but how do you know that? Only a few sea crystals have ever been found, they’re much too difficult to get to be a reliable source of Quintessence.”

Lance beamed. “My people use them all the time!”

    “Your people?” Allura questioned. Lance’s ears twitched in excitement as he thought of his people. Before he could say more, Keith cut him off.

    “With all due respect, Princess, you’ve gotten the explanation you asked for. May I ask why you’re here?”

    Allura glared, her attention diverted from Lance.

“The kingdom of Altea was hearing rumors of a nefarious pirate named Keith Kogane, who had captured an Altean ship. Since Takeshi Shirogane is the head of the royal guard and was appointed on this mission by my father directly, we waited for any correspondence from him. When none came, I naturally sought to find out what had happened to him myself.”

    “I didn’t know they let princesses out of the castle to track down missing men.” Keith said, glaring daggers right back at her.

    “I suppose they don’t.” Allura said quietly. “But I had to come.”

Coran stepped forward, laying a gloved hand on his chest. “I’m accompanying the princess as her protector and royal advisor, although she disregarded my advice on this particular topic.” He shot Allura a look, to which she rolled her eyes.

Pidge snickered. “Looks like she could disregard your protection too.” Hunk elbowed him.

Allura’s face pinkened slightly at the indirect compliment. “Well, I have been training with a sword since I was very young. I assure you, though, Coran is very capable. He’s very knowledgeable about a lot of things and an excellent medic and handyman.”

“Geez, we could use one of those,” Hunk sighed. “I mean, Pidge and I do well enough on the repairs, but I don’t know nearly enough about medicine to be a good medic.”

    “Are you versed in the basics of medicine?” Coran asked.

Hunk nodded. “Mostly herbal though. I know almost nothing about surgery, except basic stitches.” He placed a dark hand on his stomach, smoothing the wrinkles out of his shirt. “The sight of blood makes me a bit squeamish though.”

“That’s all well and good,” Allura said, the bracelets on her wrists clinking as she placed her hands on her hips. “But I have a right to know who’s aboard my father’s ship. I demand that you reveal yourself and tell us how you know about those sea crystals.”

Keith opened his mouth to object, but Lance beat him to it.

“I have no problem revealing myself, my princess.”

With a grin and flourish of his wrist, Lance pulled off the cloak, happy to be free from the itchy, stuffy fabric. The fresh air felt almost as nice as water did on his skin. He already felt leagues more comfortable in the clothes Pidge had bought him, the fabric around his waist swishing as he moved.

“The name’s Lance, pleasure to meet you my princess.” He beamed at her with his most genuine smile rather than his diplomatic one. He liked this princess, she knew how to put Keith in his place.

“Oh,” Allura breathed, eyes blown wide as they searched his face.

Keith seemed to be having his own malfunction, but for a different reason. His eyes dropped to Lance’s waist, taking in the skin tight pants and rich blue fabric draped from his belt. Then they traveled up, raking over his bare torso. His face was almost as red as a lobster.

    Pidge smirked. “Like what you see, Keith?”

“Where did those come from?” He choked, blush painting his cheeks a vibrant red.  

“Lance and I bought him new clothes at the market.”

    “Now you can have your clothes back,” Lance said, smiling at Keith. Keith quickly turned away, averting his eyes as he muttered a  thank you.

Pidge grinned that cheshire grin of his. “What do you think Keith? Do you like Lance’s new threads?”

    Keith shot a glare at him, although it was pretty weak. “I’ll strangle you with Lance’s new threads.”

    “I don’t think one thread at a time is the way to get Lance to undres-”

    “Pidge! You’re on duty for swabbing the deck now!” Keith barked, hiding his face in his hand. Lance watched the exchange, not really understanding what was happening. Pidge’s face went red, but not from embarrassment.

    “You’ve got to be kidding me! Lance has to help, it’s all his fault!” Pidge said, pointing at Lance.

    “What? What did I do?” Lance cried.

Keith waved a vague hand at him before turning back to Pidge. “Don’t half ass it, teach him how to do it right. I’m sure it won’t be the only time he swabs the deck.”

Lance twisted away from them indignantly, crossing his arms with a pout.

“Are you a mer?” Coran asked, somehow ignoring the previous conversation and popping up into Lance’s face. He reeled backwards at the sudden invasion of space, but Coran was persistent, holding onto his ear so he could get a better look.

“Judging by your notched ears, I would say you’re Nokken, but they also have an extra part on top of them that is distinctly different.” Coran said, peering at the blue webbed part of his ear.

    “I’m only half Nokken. My mom is a Ningyo.” Lance pulled back, using Hunk as a shield as he rubbed his now sore ear. He eyed Coran warily, not fond of the look of interest in the man’s eye.

    “If you’re one of the merfolk, that’s amazing,” Allura said, her eyes round with awe. Lance preened under her praise. “The mortal world lost contact with the mer thousands of years ago. Most people think they’re a legend nowadays.”

    “Nope, still swimming,” Lance said. “My people are thriving, we just don’t need mortal materials to do it.”

    “Your people? Are you a member of the royal family?” Coran asked.

    “Oh great, now you’ve got him started.” Keith said, rolling his eyes, but his words lacked harshness.

    “I’m the prince. Well, I’ve got two older siblings, so I’m not next in line for the throne.”

    “It’s still a pleasure to meet you, prince Lance,” Allura said, bowing her respects.

With a strange moment of realization, he realized it had been a while since anyone had called him prince Lance. Maybe it had only been a week but it felt like a small lifetime since coming aboard the _Red Lion_.

    “Just Lance will do, my princess. I’m not exactly a prince aboard this ship.”

    “In that case, I won’t be a princess aboard this ship either. You can all call me Allura.”

Lance smiled warmly as the two shook hands.

    “In the meantime, we need to sail this ship back to Altea and debrief my father on the latest happenings.”

    “What?” Keith’s brow was furrowed again. “Red’s not going back to Altea. They’ll scrap her the minute they see her black flag in their harbor.”

    “Not if they know that she’s my ship!” Allura argued. “We can just take down her jolly roger.”

    “I told you, she’s not _your_ ship.” Keith growled. “This ship is a ship of Altea, and the men aboard it work to help Altea, but I don’t serve you or your father like that.”

    “Keith-” Pidge cut in sharply, touching his sleeve. He jerked his arm away.  
     
    “I don’t serve Altea! Shiro is the only one I swore my loyalty to and I’m not stopping until I find him!”

    “Well, if we go back to Altea, King Alfor can deploy-”

    “No!” Keith yelled. “Shiro got captured because of me, so I’m going to be the one to rescue him. You can’t have Red.”

    Allura scowled at him. “You’re a pirate ship with only three other members. How do you expect to take on the entire Galra empire to find him?”

    “It doesn’t matter. I could be one man standing alone and I would still fight the entire Galra empire to find him.” Keith stared at her, eyes resolute, clearer than the skies on the most beautiful, cloudless day.

    “Is this how the rest of you feel?” Allura asked, turning to the rest of the crew. Pidge and Hunk exchanged a look.

“I still respect the kingdom of Altea. I grew up there.” Pidge said, “but Shiro was my friend, even though I didn’t have the position he did. He respected me. I want to help rescue him too.”

“Same for me,” Hunk agreed. “Keith’s the captain now. He’s just as capable as Shiro.”

    “I can’t replace Shiro.” Keith protested. “I’m not the leader Shiro was.”

Allura turned to Lance. He looked at the horizon, feeling the blood rush to his cheeks. Part of him wanted to resist, to think of Keith as the cruel captor Lance had originally thought he was. But now he had seen other sides of him, and it was harder to believe that. He wasn’t sure if it was an effect of the Goddess’ curse or something else, but he found himself drawn to the captain of this ragtag pirate crew.

“I don’t know Shiro, but I don’t think Keith is replacing him. I respect Keith as a captain of his own standing. I’ll follow Keith to the end of the seven seas.” Lance said. After he said the words, he was surprised at how true they felt. He wrote it off as an effect of the Goddess’ curse, but there was a particular desire in his gut to be helpful to Keith.

Keith’s mouth fell open slightly as he looked at Lance. Lance made a face at him. Embarrassed, Keith shifted, his eyes boring into Allura. “I’m only acting as captain until Shiro comes back. And I’m going to find him.”

For the first time, Allura smiled at him, pink lips turning upward. “And I’m going to join you.”

    “Wait, what?” Keith asked, shock drawn over his features.

    “Shiro is very important to us too. He was the head of the royal guard before sailing on this trip, of course. We’re here to help.”

Coran strode over to the rail where their ship was still tailing the _Red Lion_.

    “It’s all good guys! Thanks!” He shouted, waving to the men. All of the men were still gathered around the side, watching, so they saluted to Coran and Allura and turned away from the _Red Lion_.

    The crew of the _Red Lion_ stood gaping, not unlike fish out of water. Coran grinned, twisting his mustache and Allura beamed at her new crewmates.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you love me, leave a comment and I'll love you too <3
> 
> EDIT: The art is fixed, thanks again to Holden!  
>  
> 
> or come chat at my tumblr: [celestial-caster](https://celestial-caster.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Please go give Holden some love at his tumblr: [saltwater-paladin](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/saltwater-paladin)


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Musical chapter? Say what?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyo guys! I wanted to get this chapter out before exam hell starts for me. Someone pray for me. 
> 
> There's a reference to a song that Lance sings in this chapter, it's Leo - Xan Griffin ft. NEONHEART, but I imagine it to be more like a folk song, something you could play an acoustic guitar to (not that there are guitars underwater so y'know)
> 
> I might have fallen asleep while editing this chapter so I apologize for any mistakes. Anyways, this was a fun chapter to write and it's almost 8K words, so I hope you enjoy!

 

  
“I still don’t see why I have to help you,” Lance pouted. “This was all your fault.”

Pidge tied his hair back with a dark green bandana, twisting the edges of the fabric into a knot. He re-adjusted his glasses on his nose. “Technically, it was your fault.” Pidge replied.

“How?” Lance cried indignantly. “All I did was wear the clothes that you bought me!” He smoothed a hand over his pants, still fascinated with the way the fabric felt on his bare skin.

“Exactly. I can’t help that Keith has a weakness for your good charms.”

Lance rolled his eyes, but he took the mop that Pidge offered him. For the first few minutes, Pidge explained to him how he should swab the deck from the bow to the stern, and how the railings should be wiped down with sponges every once in awhile. After that, they lapsed into silence, slowly making their way to the rear. The sun beat down of Lance’s bare back, turning his brown skin an even darker shade. As the time wore on, Lance started to hum, and then sing softly, swinging his hips with the swirl of the mop.

The songs were all in his native tongue, soft and fluent on his tongue. The words rippled Pidge didn’t seem to mind his singing, as he kept his back to him, scrubbing the railing, but Lance could tell he was listening.

“What language is that?” Pidge asked.

“Kelpian,” He replied, leaning on the stick of the mop with a small smile.

Pidge’s eyes lit up. “Is that like the official language of the merfolk? Do you think you can teach me sometime?”

“Sure thing. There are some other particular dialects, but most merfolk speak Kelpian.”

“What’s the song you’re singing about?”

To be honest, it was a song that he couldn’t get out of his head. He hadn’t thought about it in years, but it was a folk song that his mom would sing to him when he was a guppy. Despite all that passing time, he could still remember every word, as if he had heard her sing it just yesterday. The memory of her voice made it feel that much more distant, and he felt the void of his family’s absence widen.

“It’s sort of a sad love song,” He explained. The song had a melody as gentle as the sound of a light rain.

“Can you translate some of the lyrics?”

Lance scrunched up his nose in thought. “I can try. I’m not sure all the words translate into common very well.”

He began to sing again, his voice a little louder than it had been before. He sang the line in Kelpian, and then switched to common.

“Stars blind, they fall and leave the sky, leave me alone another night,”

He swept Pidge into his arms, parading him around the deck, both of their mops clattering to the floor. The deck was still wet, so they just slid across the boards. Pidge giggled, shrieking as they almost fell over together.

“I see the moon, it comes alive, feeling the earth move with the tide, fall to the sky,”

He spun Pidge around, casually singing a line or two from the song before pausing to think of what the equivalent was in common. Some of his translations were a little broken, but Pidge seemed enthralled in just understand the basic gist of the lines.

Pidge’s cheeks were bright red, but Lance couldn’t tell if it was because of spinning him so much or because he was laughing too hard. What could he say, Pidge’s small, lightweight frame made him fun to twirl around, especially when he cackled that way. His laughter was contagious, planting a grin on Lance’s own face.  
His voice swelled with feeling, relishing in the familiarity of the words of his mother-tongue.

With another twirl of his wrist, he sent Pidge whirlwinding across the deck once again, following in his path.

“Forgive me, my hopeless pride, believe me, don’t try to walk away,” he sang. The word in the actual song didn’t quite mean walk since it was a mer song, but it referenced to a mer’s slow movement of going away regretfully, so Lance substituted the word.

When Lance looked up at the higher deck, he met eyes with Keith, who was standing at the balcony, watching them with a strange look on his face. When he saw Lance looking at him, he cleared his throat.

“Come on swabbies, you can go faster than that!” Keith called down, recovering himself. Allura had taken over the wheel, his graceful fingers slowly spinning the wheel to keep it on track.

Pidge looked up and offered the captain a finger of choice. “I’d like to see you do better!” He called.

Lance met Keith’s eyes again for a moment, but the captain quickly looked away. Lance’s heart sank. Clearly, he was still made about Lance’s meeting with Ezor. Ever since the scene aboard the Red Lion had calmed down and Allura and Coran went to settle in, Keith had avoided Lance. Whenever Lance tried to provoke him, he just grunted or scowled or walked away. Making fun of the captain wasn’t as much fun when Lance couldn’t get a rise out of him.

Lance and Pidge finished up cleaning the deck. When they were finished, the deck shone as it dried in the afternoon sun and Pidge trudged away to go put the mops back in the storage cabinet until the next time they swabbed the deck.

Going below deck, Lance made his way to the bathroom of the captain’s quarters. He dropped his clothes and sank into the tub, shifting back into his mer form. The water cleaned away the sweat on his skin from scrubbing the deck in the hot sun all morning. His limbs were sore from all the physical exertion.It was also a relief to not have to hold his human form. It was seriously exhausting to have to do that all the time when he wanted to hang out with the crew.

Even still, the water in the tub was no replacement for the actual ocean. His body yearned for the fresh salt, the coldness of the depths, the touch of another.  
But in the tub Lance remained. He closed his eyes, pretending the ocean waves were rolling over him, washing away his troubles. With the whoosh of one wave, he was back home, no longer stuck aboard the _Red Lion_. With another wave, he was no longer bound by the Goddess’ Curse. A final wave rolled over his chest, covering his face and pulling his hair until Keith no longer hated him. As the roaring of the final wave came to a close, he succumbed to sleep. It was quiet and uneventful. No dreams of home, or the Goddess, or of the moody captain who he definitely wasn’t growing to care about.

When he awoke, he was no longer sure what time it was. The sleep had been blissful and pleasant, perhaps for the first time since coming aboard the _Red Lion_.

He rolled over in the tub, looking up at the ceiling. He felt so bored. At home, there was always lots of things for him to do. He had school and his royal lessons, his work as the Goddess’ _Ayuto_ and his duties as a prince. However, since he wasn’t next in line for the throne, he had some leeway with his duties and also had time to spend with his friends and exploring.

Allura and Coran had seemed to settle right into their duties aboard the Red Lion. Maybe it was because they both had the experience to, but Lance felt restless with nothing to do.

Shifting, he climbed out of the tub. As he strode above deck, the shifting of the light blinded him. When he blinked the sun out of his eyes, Coran was standing there.  
Lance blinked warily.

“Good morning, Lance! It’s good to see you up and walking on those legs of yours!” Coran said cheerily.

From what Lance had seen, Coran was very passionate about his job and very outgoing in general, to the point where he came off as a little strange.

“If you’re looking for something you can do, you can come help me sort the med bay,” Coran said. “We could examine at that tail of yours while we’re at it.”

Lance fingered the skin of his legs slightly, still a little wary. Coran had taken a peculiar interest after learning he was a mer and it was slightly unsettling.  
“Err, no thanks, I was supposed to go help… Pidge! Pidge needed my help with something!” Lance said quickly.

Coran shrugged. “Sure thing, my boy, but if you ever have some free time, come see me.”

Lance gave a half-hearted nod, quickly scanning the deck for Pidge. Slumped against the mast, with bulky headphones pulled over his ears, Pidge certainly had a project going on. Lance recognized some of the parts that Pidge had bought from that merchant in the marketplace scattered around him. Various tools shone in the sun. Pidge hunched over a small device, tinkering with its insides. Ever since they had come back from the market, Pidge had been slaving over their device. When Lance had first seen his headphones, he had thought they were strange sea shells affixed to Pidge’s ears, but when Pidge had let him try them on, he was amazed to find that music came out to block out other noises.

“Hey Pidge, what are you doing?” Lance asked, approaching in line of Pidge’s vision.

He pulled down his headphones. “I’m trying to work on this recorder” He said, not looking up from where he was screwing a piece into place.

Lance looked at the device curiously. It was clearly missing some parts, the belly of the machine open to its mechanical insides. He didn’t understand any of it, but it looked beautiful, all the silver gears turning and the multi-colored wires connecting to attempt to create life out of the unliving.

“What’s it supposed to do?” he asked. He picked up one of the silver gears lying on the ground, feeling the smoothness of its face and the ridges of the notches in the side between his fingertips. At home, there was this jeweler who would experiment with different materials, always trying to make unique jewelry that was different from the usual pieces merfolk traditionally wore. Lance had bought some rings from him, around his coming of age ceremony. They had been elegantly designed, a stunning shade of gold wrapping around his entire finger in the fashion of seaweed and a rounded one with scales much like his tail. These silver gears felt like something he would have enjoyed making a pair of earrings out of. Lance held them up to his ears, trying them on for size.

“It’s for collecting music. I can go from port to port and record songs that musicians play.” Pidge said. They jostled the machine with the screwdriver and suddenly, a small piece fell off. Pidge scowled at it. “That is, if it ever works. I’ve recorded a few songs, but getting them to play is a bit touchy. Sometimes I just get static.” They glanced at the deck, peering under and around various parts and tools. Then they looked up at Lance, still twirling the gear in his fingers.

“Hey, don’t touch my stuff! I need that to try and connect these two parts together.” Pidge said, pulling the gear out of Lance’s hand before he had a chance to return it.

“Sorry, it just looked really cool.”

Pidge turned back to his project, muttering under his breath about all the things he was going to need to fix in his machine before it would work the way he intended. Lance took that as his cue to go. Backing away, he left Pidge to his project and went to find someone else who might need his help.

Lance retreated to the darkness of below deck. Following the dark hallway, he made his way to the galley. Inside, Hunk was stirring a pot on the stove.  
“Hey Hunk.” Lance said, sliding onto a stool next to the small island where Hunk sometimes worked.

“Hey Lance, what’s up?” Hunk asked.

Lance shrugged. “Not much. Do you need help with something?”

Hunk hummed, “Here, I need these potatoes peeled.”

He hefted a large burlap bag onto the island between himself and Lance. As a few potatoes rolled out of the bag, Hunk placed a sharpened knife in front of Lance.  
Lance’s eyes flicked between Hunk and the knife. Hunk picked it up again a bit sheepishly.

“Sorry, I forget sometimes that you’ve never done this kind of stuff. You’re so steady on your legs now that you can’t even tell you haven’t had them since birth.”

He took the knife and slowly slid it underneath the skin, a small indent like dipping one foot underwater. Then, with his large, steady hands, he whipped the knife around the round of the potato, skinning the darker parts while leaving behind its pale insides.

“Your turn.” Hunk said, handing the knife back to Lance.

He picked up another potato and slid the knife in, jaggedly cutting the skin off. It took him a few tries, but he finally managed to get all the skin off.

“You should cut away from yourself, that way you won’t get cut.” Hunk explained.

With that, the two fell into a particular rhythm. Hunk stirred the contents of the pot and stoked the fire every once and awhile while Lance slowly worked his way through peeling the potatoes. He wasn’t as fast as Hunk, and he often cut away more of the actual potato than Hunk did, but the work was numbing, allowing his to take his mind off his problems and focus on something else, and the company was good.

Hunk prodded the wood inside the stove before turning back to face Lance. He studied him from across the island, his big brown eyes searching his face, which was narrowed in concentration.

“Is there anything you wanted to talk about?” Hunk asked.

Lance looked up. “What do you mean?”

Hunk put his ladle down, cracking his fingers. “Like, is there something bothering you?”

A lump rose in Lance’s throat. Where would he even begin? Should he tell Hunk about the Goddess’ curse? He hadn’t even told Keith yet. He could feel the guilt gnawing at his insides, eating his from the inside, piece by piece. But the thought of being indebted to someone like Keith made his stomach churn even more. The crew was friendly to him, even Keith sometimes, but it wasn’t the same as being a part of the crew. Allura and Coran had seemed to fit right in.

A deep loneliness sank in Lance’s chest, grounded him on the stool that he sat on. He slowly cut around the skin of the potato he was holding, trying to carve away the darker layers of his thought in the same way the skin peeled.

Hunk was still watching him, expecting an answer.

“No, there’s nothing wrong.” He said, carving the last of the skin off.

Hunk hummed a reply, his eyes lingering, but after a moment he turned back to his cooking, picking up the ladle once again.  
Lance slinked down the hall, pushing open the door to Keith’s room. The clouds were overcast, so the room was dimly lit, only a small amount of light filtering in through the window. The bed still wasn’t made, the clothes still scattered on the floor, ill fitting, considering the polished wood and beautiful window and the largeness of the bed compared to the little hammocks everyone else slept in.

His eyes traveled to the coat, returned to its proper place on the handle of the drawer. The fabric was still neatly pressed, the gold embroidery shiny and eye-catching in the light. Perhaps it had belonged to the previous captain that Keith had loved so much, Shiro.  
Suddenly, the thought dawned on Lance that if Shiro had once been the captain, the entire room had belonged to him. After all, why shouldn’t a captain use the captain’s quarters.

He looked around the room with new eyes. The furniture was fancy, probably given to someone very esteemed. The wood was polished and still smelled of trees, even with the heavy smell of salt in the air. On closer inspection, Lance realized the bed was missing its comforter. He peered around the room, and in a corner he found the bedsheet balled up, as if it had been hurled off the bed in a rage and then moved with care into the corner so as not to get dirty. The comforter was heavy, a regal gold and navy blue. When he tugged open a drawer, Lance found neatly folded clothes, a few sizes too big to fit Keith, and fancier than anything he would ever wear.

When he stepped back, it wasn’t hard for him to rearrange the room. If he mentally pulled the white sheets back into order, replaced the beautiful comforter, and cleaned Keith’s clothes off the floor, the room was completely transformed into the quarters of another captain. It was suddenly very easy for Lance to imagine why Keith didn’t seem to belong in the room. Lance was a prince and he felt out of place in this room. He didn’t even know Shiro, but becoming captain in his place seemed like a lot to live up to.

Uneasy, Lance retreated into the bathroom of the captain’s quarters, letting the darkness swallow him whole. Submersing himself into the water, he allowed his legs to stretch longer, regrowing their scales and combining as one.

He threw his head back, releasing a sigh.

The darkness was a comfort, but it was hard not to reminisce of the events of a few days ago. It made Lance’s stomach curl to think about it, but for some reason, he couldn’t stop.

After Allura and Coran declared that they were going to become members of the _Red Lion_ , the crew had dispersed, welcoming their new members before going back to their work. Keith had disappeared, although Lance just assumed he was nursing his broken pride. Lacking work, Lance had returned to the bathtub to let his tail down and regain some of his energy.

However, when he opened the door to the room he had begun to think of as his, he was reminded of it’s true purpose. A vile stench lingered in the air, accompanied by gagging sounds.

Hesitantly, Lance had pushed open the door a little more. Keith was knelt on the floor, hunched over the toilet. He had peeled off his top layer, so all that remained was a black t-shirt underneath, and despite how the sweat moistened his brow, he shivered violently. The outline of his curse, red and angry, pulsated around Keith, leaving a terrible aura in the air.

“Keith?”

Keith’s head swiveled towards Lance, a deer caught in surprise. He looked like he was about to snap at Lance again, but before he could, his body betrayed him and he was leaning back into the toilet, releasing the contents of his stomach.

Lance had swiftly crossed the room, kneeling next to Keith and rubbing his back, like he had done for his sisters when they got sick. Keith hadn’t protested, merely heaving for breath, his pale fingers clenched as he struggled to control the waves of his sickness.

When the sickness passed, and Keith had regained his breath, he was no longer pale. Instead, red had rushed to his face, coloring his cheeks. He had stood up shakily, pushing Lance away from himself. Before leaving, he had given Lance a “look”, one that Lance could read well enough to know it said “If you tell anyone of this, I’ll kill you.”

Not for the first time, Lance wished the captain would tell him about his curse. The mer were magical beings, if he knew the details of the curse, maybe he could break it. A part of him desperately wanted Keith to like him, and another part of him hated himself for that.

Lance sank down in the tub, blowing bubbles through his nose. At some point, he drifted to sleep, the boat rocking gently back and forth like a baby’s cradle.  
Lance was violently awoken when his head knocked into the side of the tub. Growling, he rubbed the aching part of his head. When he realized the water was splashing out of the tub, he suddenly felt wide awake.

The ship rocked on the waves, forcing the ship to bend to its will. Forcing himself to calm down, Lance focused on transforming his tail into legs. The transformation wasn’t as painful as it had been the first time, just a slight burning as his scales stretched and deformed. Lance stumbled out of the tub, grasping the wall for balance as the ship moved violently again.

He passed Coran, who was frantically trying to protect as many medical supplies as possible by pulling vials full of herbs out of the cabinet and putting them into cushioned boxes on the ground in the med bay. The med bay still made Lance shiver horribly, so he continued on his way without offering to help.

Above deck, a storm raged. Rain poured from the sky, ink black clouds hovering above. Pidge had thrown all his mechanical parts inside a box, shoving the box below deck so none of the pieces would be stolen by the sea. His headphones dangled around his neck. Hunk had come above deck and the two of them were fighting with the sails.

“Furl the sails faster!” Keith barked. He strode to the railing, peering at the tumultuous sea below. “Aim the stern at the waves!” he called to Allura. “More to the right!”

Allura had changed out of her silver armor and now was wearing a more casual outfit, with a white sash, simpler and shorter than the one Lance was wearing . She wore long blue sleeves, her wrists adorned with golden bracelets and earrings dangling from her ears. Her fancy cavalry sword was still strapped in its sheath at her side. She spun the wheel right, her face set in concentration. She squinted as rain flew into her eyes. The wind pulled her hair out of it’s usually neat bun.

Keith wiped the water from his face with his soaked sleeve. His own hair whipped around his face, darker than the clouds with all the water it had absorbed. He finally took notice of Lance, standing there awkwardly.

“Help Hunk and Pidge with those sails!”

The wind roared around him, making it hard for the words to carry. Nevertheless, Lance dashed across the deck. Pidge and Hunk had just successfully taken down the rear sails, preventing the ship from sliding sideways.

“We need to furl the lower courses!” Hunk screamed. The rain threatened to drown him out.

Luckily, they were already going downwind, or well, less wind, so Pidge took the pressure off the sail, using the main sail to blanket it while he and Lance rolled it up. Together, the three of them coiled up the red sheets, leaving only the jib and the forefront sails to keep momentum.

“Pidge, get up to the crow’s nest and survey the area!” Keith called.

Pidge eyed the skies warily. “Looks like lightning.”

Keith grinned at him. “You know you’re quick. Don’t get shocked.”

Muttering under his breath, Pidge clapped his headphones back over his ears so he could properly concentrate on keeping his grip. He scaled the mast up to the crow’s nest, scrambling over the edge and out of view.

A minute later, he popped over the edge again.

“No ships in sight, but I think there is an island!”

Keith cursed under his breath. “Where?” He shouted back.

Pidge disappeared to judge the distance.

“Be ready to move the ship quick-” Keith’s eyes suddenly glazed over. A beautiful sound flowed over the deck of the _Red Lion_.

Melodic music, accompanied by the beautiful voice. The voice was androgynous, raspy enough to belong to any man or woman, but rich in tone and inflection.

Lance’s head swiveled towards the sound, but he couldn’t make out anything in the darkness. However, he didn’t need to see to know what was lurking by the bay.

Everyone aboard the _Red Lion_ had frozen, their eyes glazed, bodies slightly swaying. Allura’s hands were limp on the steering wheel. The voice became more impassioned, carrying stronger intent. Suddenly, Allura’s hands were alert, spinning the wheel towards the sound as quickly as they could. Hunk dropped the ropes he had been holding, stumbling towards the railing.

“No!” Lance cried. He tackled Hunk, pushing him away from the rails, but he was barely strong enough to hold him back. Suddenly, a flash of green raced between himself and Hunk. Pidge was still wearing his headphones, and his face strained with the effort of holding someone as strong as Hunk back.

“Hold him back for as long as you can!” Lance yelled

Pidge gave Lance a look, but all Lance could hope was that he had some sort of lip reading capability. He removed his hands from Hunk’s chest, and with the lack of pressure, Hunk stumbled forward, sweeping Pidge with him. Pidge rammed his body again, uprighting the two, his fingers clenched in the front of Hunk’s shirt.

Lance dashed across the deck, surveying the scene as he went. Allura was still dazedly steering the ship on a path of doom. She was humming the song to herself, like a familiar song that she couldn’t remember the words to. Keith was still standing in place, his pupils blown wide, mouth agape. He swayed, but he didn’t seem in immediate danger.

Throwing open the door, Lance screamed over the roar of the sea.

“Coran! Coran!”

The red haired man poked his head from the medical bay.

“What is it my boy?” Coran asked.

“Sirens!” The eye that wasn’t covered by the eyepatch widened as he took in Lance’s panicked voice. “Do you have any medical gauze?”

He rushed into the med bay, returning with a roll of white bandages.

“Stuff some in your ears,” Lance said, gesturing to his own. “I need you to put gauze in the rest of the crew’s ears too.”

Coran nodded in determination, but Lance had already spun on his heel, darting back above deck.

Hunk had overpowered Pidge, pushing past him. Pidge had unsheathed his sword, but his hands shook at the idea of using it on him.

The ship was dangerously nearing shore, so close that Lance could make out the outline. If they didn’t get the ship back on course soon, the _Red Lion_ would likely become a shipwreck among the rocks.

Coran joined Lance above deck, sneaking up behind Hunk. He managed to plug one of Hunk’s ears, but Hunk flinched away. Coran grappled with him, trying to force the second plug into his ear. With the noise blocked out, Hunk stumbled, blinking as if he had just woken up. Allura had joined the rest of the crew on the lower deck, leaving the ship unmanned.

“Princess!” Coran shouted as Allura stepped towards the railing. She showed no signs of hearing him. Coran reached out, touching her shoulder with his gloved hand. Allura whipped around, the blue of her eyes hazy. In mere seconds, she had pulled out her large cavalry sword, pointing it straight at her advisor.

“Allura, snap out of it!” Pidge screamed, stepping between Coran and Allura, cutlass at the ready.

In the struggle of the moment, a sharp pain stabbed through Lance’s chest. The length of rope he had been holding fell from his hand to the deck limply, unraveling into a messy pile. His eyes searched the deck frantically.

When he caught sight of the raven hair he was looking for, relief poured through his veins, but it was short lived. Keith had snapped out of his stupor, and had made his way to the wood rail of the _Red Lion_. With a gentle heave of his body, he lifted himself over the railing of the _Red Lion_ , as if he was merely patting a friend on the back. In seconds, his body had fallen from view, his hair flashing by like a raven falling from the sky.

“No!” Lance screamed, although between the ear plugs and the enchanting song, nobody could hear him.

Lance sprinted across the deck, his bare feet slipping on the water puddling on the boards. He slammed into the ground, but before his body could register the pain, he was back on his feet.

The only thought his mind was registering was _Keith Keith Keith Keith_ , a crescendo like the waves, louder and louder, beating at the inside of his head. His chest pulsated with pain, like a string being pulled taut.

Finally reaching the rail, too many seconds too late, he vaulted over the railing. He shifted, his legs combining to become one solid being. He crashed into the water, fighting to see through the bubbles he had made.

His skin screamed in relief, filling his pores with salt water, his gills sucking in fresh air greedily. He felt more awake and energized then he had in days, but all of it meant nothing if Keith was stolen by the sea.

In the darkness of the depths, Lance spotted Keith. If not for his pale face, he would have almost completely blended in with the sea. An even paler hand clenched around Keith’s ankle, dragging him deeper.

With all his strength, Lance propelled himself towards Keith and the siren. The muscles in his tail spasmed after being used so little the past few weeks. He ignored the pain, latching onto the back of Keith’s shirt. He tried to pull him upward, but was meet with resistance. Keith’s eyes fluttered in response.

Lance was met face to face with one of the mer, a siren. They were beautiful in a horribly cruel sort of way, hair as dark as death flowing around their ears. Their tail was made up of scales the color of steel, and just as cold to the touch. Their eyes were a black that matched the darker parts of the sea, enough for them to watch their prey without the victim’s awareness.

Lance shivered at the sight. Although sirens were some sort of distant cousin of Nokken, the differences were astonishing. Lance had fangs sharp enough to break flesh, but they weren’t nearly as appalling as the monstrous teeth lining the siren’s pale gums. Although Nokken had powers of the voice and shapeshifting abilities, his people’s powers weren’t solely used for luring sailors to their death anymore. The sirens seemed incapable of change, or perhaps they just didn’t want to.

The siren hissed at him, fangs protruding from their mouth. Their face was so pale it looked sickly, dark spots peppering their skin. She tried to claim Keith again, but Lance wasn’t having it. He pulled Keith against his chest, strands of black hair tickling his bare chest.

The intensity of the song increased as the siren screamed again. Her voice grated against Lance’s ears, but whatever Keith heard must have been pleasing because he jerked towards her, releasing any of the remaining bubbles of air his lungs held. His mouth was open, pale face vulnerable to the siren’s ugly charms.

They smiled at him, beautiful lips stretched over horrific fangs, leaning forward to end their song and consequently, Keith’s life.

Power surged through Lance and he slammed into the siren, tail lashing out. The siren hissed again, sinking their claws into Lance’s arm. He bared his own fangs, smaller, but just as useful. They scrambled with each other, screaming in each other’s face, trying to claw out the other’s throat. Lance scratched angry red lines down her arms, while she tore at his hair. She wrapped her fingers around his throat, nails digging into the skin. It wasn’t impossible for him to breath, since his gills were still open, but it made it harder to move. He swept at them with his tail, but they blocked the swipe with the swish of their tail.

In the corner of his sight, the blur of clothing and black hair floated limply among the waters. He wasn’t moving. Lance struggled, trying to break free of the siren’s grip, but it remained firm. Bubbles flew out of his mouth as he made a chortling noise in the back of his throat, not from the necessity of air, but the frustration of entrapment.

The siren gave him a little shake, smirking at his and judging him with those darkened eyes. Suddenly Lance was seeing the darkness as if it was Keith’s eyes, his beautiful violet eyes dull and lifeless. The thought shook Lance to his core, making his blood run cold. A feral feeling washed over him.

Desperately, he thrashed the siren with his tail once more. They laughed, effectively blocking his tail again. However, at the same time, he swiped at their throat with his claws, slicing the sensitive skin around their vocal cords. The laughter died on their lips, a choked off chortle around sharpened fangs, the dark eyes looking at him like a judge sentencing a traitor.

Lance recoiled, staring at his hand like it was a foreign being. Redness stained his skin, spreading to the waters as it plumed out of the siren’s throat. He gagged, covering his mouth with his clean hand. He couldn’t stop staring at his vile hand, marked with the color of a traitor. Sirens were never appreciated by the merfolk, but they were merfolk all the same. He had just killed one of the merfolk. And for what? A pirate who would never do the same for him? A pirate who might already be dead?

Lance forced himself away from where the siren’s body was being swallowed by the depths, blackness returning to blackness. He felt for Keith’s pulse, a light flickering in his throat. Lance’s hand shook, thinking about the life they had just pulled from the siren’s throat. He could feel the life leaking from Keith’s throat, slipping between his fingers. A new determination filled him. He had killed the siren in self defense. If he hadn’t killed the siren, the siren would have killed Keith. It wasn’t a treason to his people. Everything was a bargain, and now he needed to save the life he had killed for.

Keith was unresponsive as Lance held him in his arms. His face was a white as a sheet, lips pink and swollen. His hair billowed around his face, the only part of him that was moving.

Lance leaned in, feeling the draw of his full lips like the siren’s lure. Slowly, he pressed his own lips to Keith’s, mindful not to prick him with his fangs. Keith’s lips tasted bitter with the salt, but there was an underlying sweetness that Lance wanted to savor.

Pushing away the thought of pleasure and desire, he breathed into Keith’s mouth, sending as much air as he could muster down Keith’s pipe way. Air filled his lungs, making life bud like flowers through his veins.

 

Without breaking contact, Lance began to push away from the depths, towards the surface of the water. The darkness of the water broke, illuminating Keith’s face. Keith’s eyes fluttered, and Lance pulled apart to properly look into them.

Streaks of violet intertwined with the dark blue irises, and although his pupils were still rather dilated, he no longer looked like he was under the siren’s trance. Some of the air Lance had given to him bubbled out the corner of his lips. Lance fought the desire to touch his lips again, instead wrapping his arms around Keith and pulling his upwards.

Lance broke above the waves, dragging Keith with him. Keith gasped for air, coughing and spitting water out of his lungs. His head lolled against his chest, and Lance moved his tail in powerful swipes to keep them both afloat.

“There they are!” Pidge yelled, pointing at them from where he was leaning over the _Red Lion_ ’s rail.

A moment later, Coran and Hunk appeared at the railing. Coran dropped a large net into the water. Lance eyed it warily for a moment. He knew the crew on the _Red Lion_ wouldn’t hurt him, but that didn’t mean that Lance planned on getting in another net anytime soon. Keith clutched onto his shoulders, shivering violently from the cold waters. Reluctantly, he gave in and swam into the midst of the net, waiting for Hunk and Coran to hoist them up.

When the net started to rise out of the water Lance panicked. The ropes were grating against his skin, his tail useless as the water disappeared from under him. He struggled to switch from gills to lungs, his chest jerking as he hiccuped.

Keith’s hand twitched on his chest. Lance could feel the palm of his hand right over where his heart was. He wondered if Keith could feel it, because he sure could. He forced himself to take deep breaths, gulping in air as if he was the one who had just nearly drowned.

As Coran and Hunk hauled the two of them aboard the _Red Lion_ , they spilled out of the net onto the deck, heaving for breath. Pidge helped peel back some of the net and it was like a weight lifted off of Lance’s back.

The two of them huddled in a pile of wet and exhaustion, Coran, Hunk, and Pidge hovering over them, faces struck with concern. Somehow, they had managed to tie Allura to the mast, where she now seemed to be coming out a daze. Coran had also managed to turn the ship back on course, so they were no longer in danger of shipwrecking against the island.

As Keith spat out the remaining water from his lungs, Lance gestured to his ears, indicating that it was safe for everyone to listen again.  
Coran and Hunk pulled out the gauze, and Coran went to untie Allura from the mast. She was no longer struggling against the bonds, looking rather dazed.  
Pidge lowered his headphones, letting them dangle around his neck.

“What just happened?” He asked.

Lance looked down at his hands. He could see the red streaking across his palms even though he knew the water had long since washed it away. He shivered to think of the darkness erasing the presence of the siren as well.

“There was a siren.” He said, swallowing thickly. “They’re dead now.”

Pidge surveyed his face with a look of pity, but he didn’t press. He turned to the rest of the group.

“Well, that was wild. I thought we were all going to die.”

“Sorry,” Hunk said. “I didn’t mean to fight with you. All I could hear was my girlfriend’s voice. It was so strong, I felt that I had to go to it.”

“Wait, what?” Allura asked, joining the conversation. “You heard your girlfriend's voice?”

A sappy smile spread across Hunk’s face. “Yeah. Shay has the prettiest voice.”

“Whose voice did you hear?” Pidge asked.

“My mother’s. It was a lullaby she used to sing to me as a child, before she died.”

“Everyone hears a different voice.” Lance explained. “Sirens have the ability to sound like the voice a person most wants to hear. Sometimes it’s romantic, other times it’s not. They channel so much power into their voices that it’s impossible to break their will.”

Pidge looked down at where Lance and Keith were sprawled.

“What about you, Keith?”

Keith had stopped spitting up water, although every part of him was soaked. He was sitting so close that Lance could feel the water dripping from his hair falling onto his tail.

Keith’s face colored darkly. “It’s not important.”

“Do you have a lover back home?” Hunk asked.

“No,” Keith said bluntly.

“Your family?” Hunk pressed.

Keith shivered, and Lance couldn’t tell if it was because of the cold water seeping through his skin and turning him blue or the conversational topic.  
“Definitely not,” he grimaced.

quirked an eyebrow at him, a cheshire grin splitting his lips.

“Oooh,” He sang. “The captain’s got a _crush_!”

Keith narrowed his eyes. “I do not have a cru-”

“Keith’s got a crush, Keith’s got a crush!” He sang.

“I told you about my girlfriend,” Hunk said. “Tell us about your crush! Is it that one pretty girl who bought you a drink a while ago?”

Keith’s face flushed. “I’m… not really into that.”

The confession was enough to make Pidge stop singing abruptly. Allura’s eyes were wide, but Hunk seemed unfazed. Lance tried to pretend he wasn’t interested.

“Cool, man. What about that cute guy we saw singing at that pub? He was cute, right?”

Keith looked like he wanted to seep into the deck along with the seawater. “No, I don’t think it was his voice either.”

The crew was quiet for the rest of the day, on high alert for any more possible siren attacks. Lance prayed to the Goddess that there wouldn’t be because he didn’t think he could handle killing another. Thankfully, the rest of the day was peaceful.

To make up for the tenseness, Hunk cooked up a hearty dinner and when the group went to the galley to get their food, Hunk shook his head.  
“Let’s go above deck to eat tonight. It’s a nice night.”

The sun was just sitting as they all settled into a circle on the upper deck. Hunk ate a bit and then picked up the guitar he had brought up with him. Before now, Lance wasn’t even aware that Hunk could play an instrument. He watched in fascination as Hunk plucked a string and released it, making a sound.

“Wow! That’s so cool! Can I try?” He asked.

Hunk handed him the guitar and showed him the hand motion he should make. Lance followed his motion and strummed downwards, sounding all the chords. He tooled around with it for a minute before he handed it back to Hunk.

“Can you play it?”

“A little bit. It was good entertainment for the other galley workers in our freetime on _The Voltron_.”

Hunk plucked a few of the strings and after a moment, his fingers moved so rapidly that they created a song. It was slow and haunting at first, and then it grew faster and more lively. It wasn’t perfect, Hunk stumbled a few times, but it was charming and beautiful.

The other crew members nodded their heads to the rhythm. During one of the faster songs, Lance dragged Pidge up to his feet and they danced along to the music. Coran clapped his hands, giving them a beat. The crew laughed as they stomped around the deck, Lance twirling Pidge into the air. Pidge was chortling with laughter as he twirled him back to his seat. He offered a hand to Allura, who took it, and they gracefully danced up and down the wooden floor. Allura surprised him by twirling him around and the crew laughed at his face of indignance.

Allura dropped him back into his seat next to Pidge and she offered a hand to Keith. Keith’s face turned bright red, but he allowed her to drag him up. They danced slower than Lance and Allura had because Keith kept stumbling over his feet. It wasn’t that he couldn’t dance, it was almost like he was out of practice and uncomfortable. Well, his uncomfortableness was clear enough, given the red shade of his face. As they danced, Lance began to sing, his voice ringing clearly out across the deck.

The sun had set completely, the last remaining reds bleeding into blue that was steadily becoming darker. Now when Lance looked up, he could see the moon and the first stars of the night. Looking up at the sky, he was reminded again of that story about the sea falling in love with the sky. Under the moon, everything felt so alive.

Someone cleared their throat and Lance faltered in his singing, drawn out of his thoughts. Keith stood in front of him, his hand outstretched.

“Do you… want to dance?” he asked, staring intensely at the floor.

Lance stared at his empty hand for a moment more, his mind frozen.

“Ugh, yes,” he stammered, getting up from his seat and taking Keith’s hand.

His hand was warm from holding Allura’s a moment before and with the accompaniment of the strum of Hunk’s guitar in the background, Lance felt himself feeling very warm. They swayed for a moment, gaining their legs, and then danced across the deck. As they danced, Lance continued to sing, a little softer than before.

Keith gave him a small smile before he twirled him sharply. Lance’s singing was cut off as he started laughing. When he was facing Keith again, he allowed Keith to take a few steps before he dipped him.

Keith yelped as he suddenly found himself looking at the stars upside down.

From somewhere behind them, Pidge whistled. Lance righted Keith, who breathlessly pushed the hair out of his face. He still looked a little stunned, but after a minute he broke into giggles. Seeing his face, Lance couldn’t help but join in.

Together, the two moved in unison across the deck. Lance was vaguely aware that Allura and Coran were dancing together and that Pidge was pestering Hunk to play some song, but really all there was was the soft strumming of the guitar, the sky overhead, and Keith. Just Keith.

His smile was so soft, so happy, the happiest Lance had ever seen him. As Lance thought about it, he realized that he himself was also the happiest he had ever been. He was starting to make friends among the crew and learn what human life was like. It was like nothing he imagined.

A couple of times, the sea breeze blew Keith’s hair into his face, and every time he just pushed it back as they laughed. Lance’s hand was getting sweaty, but he didn’t even mind because all he wanted to do was hold his hand forever.

He found himself thinking of the bittersweet taste of Keith’s lips again. He leaned towards the boy a little, close enough that he could smell a hint of the salt on his skin. The incident with the siren seemed like a lifetime ago, and he longed to feel Keith’s lips again. But suddenly, he was thinking about the paleness of Keith’s half-drowned skin and the siren’s blood on his hand and then he was thinking about the dead horses on the beach and everything in him ran cold. He couldn’t get the image, the death out of his head. He pulled away sharply. Keith faltered, giving him a concerned look.

Lance mustered a smile and they continued to dance, but that thought lingered with him for the rest of the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...well damn. What did you guys think? Was anyone expecting a kiss this early?
> 
> (ALSO I'M SUPER PROUD OF HOLDEN CUZ THE ART LOOKS HELLA GO LOVE HIM GUYS)
> 
>  
> 
> Come chat at my tumblr: [celestial-caster](https://celestial-caster.tumblr.com/)
> 
> And a big thanks to Holden, who did the art! Go give his art some love at his Tumblr: [saltwater-paladin](https://saltwater-paladin.tumblr.com/)


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> someone put me out of my misery before exams do thanks
> 
> I still wanted to get this chapter up, so I hope you enjoy. With this chapter, _Spoondrift_ is officially longer than my last Klance fic, _Say You Won't Let Go_ , so that's pretty cool, especially considering we're only 7 chapters in.

“You always thrust left, it’s predictable!”  


With a clatter, he knocked Pidge’s sword to the deck, the sound ringing across the deck in the silence of the early morning.  


“Again!” Pidge said, sweeping across the deck to pick up his dropped sword.  


Keith rushed at him, swinging his sword. Pidge parried, deflecting the blow. After another few minutes of the clanging of metal, Keith forced Pidge’s arms backwards. Pidge tried to maneuver the blade, but after a moment his wrist grew weak and the blade was forced from his hand. He grunted in frustration.  


“You need a tighter grip,” Keith said, appraising the scene in front of him. He pulled his shirt up, wiping the sweat from his face. Pidge went to pick up his sword again, but Keith stopped him.  


“Let’s take a break for a while. You’re too frustrated to learn how to fight with a sword right now. You’re overthinking your movements. The key is to be unpredictable.”  


Pidge sheathed his sword at his waist, and took a deep breath, sulking away.  


Keith wiped his face again. Even though training Pidge was nothing compared to his usual training, he felt disgustingly sweaty. His shirt stuck to him and despite spending so much time in the sun, his skin was as white as a sheet of paper.  


Meanwhile, Lance was lying on a secluded section of the deck, bathing in the sun. The mer’s skin glowed in the sun, only a few shades lighter than the wood of the _Red Lion_. He hummed softly to himself, his tail smacking the boards absentmindedly.  


“What are you doing?” Keith asked.  


Lance cracked an eye open, peering up at Keith from under his eyelashes. He frowned and the look stirred something up inside Keith.  


“Well, I was sunbathing before you started blocking my sun.” He said.  


His head was pounding, so he sat down roughly next to Lance. The boy eyed him.  


“Are you feeling okay?”  


Keith dismissed him with a wave. “I’m fine. What about you?”  


Lance’s frown deepened. “Of course I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be?” He asked defensively.  


“I mean, you basically passed out after last night’s festivities. I thought I was going to have to carry you back to the tub.”  


“It’s not easy using my powers to save your bipedal ass.” He flapped his tail on the deck. “My tail still has knots at the end.”  


Keith nodded curtly. “Thanks for saving us. Red would have gone down if you hadn’t done something about that siren.”  


He was expecting another remark from Lance boasting about how he had saved the entire crew, but nothing came. When he dared to glance at the merman, he was staring up at the sky, a grimace set on his lips.  


“What are your powers exactly?” Keith asked, hoping his change in subject would make Lance open up to him.  


Lance eyed him warily for a moment, but then relented.  


“Well, for starters, Nokken have the ability to shapeshift, obviously.” Lance explained. “I’m only half Nokken though, so it took me a long time to train myself to shift into horses and humans. For full blooded Nokken, it comes naturally.”  


Keith looked at him, surprised. It hadn’t ever occurred to him that there might be different types of merfolk. He did suppose that sirens counted as merfolk though.  


“What’s your other half?” He asked.  


“My mother is a Ningyo,” Lance replied.  


Keith hummed thoughtfully. Lance shot him a look, his blue eyes narrowing. 

“What, do you have a problem with it?”  


“No, I completely understand.”  


“What do you mean?” Lance asked.  


Keith unsheathed his knife, twirling the blade in his fingers. “My father is Galran, but my mother was an Altean. It wasn’t a favorable relationship back home and let’s just say that as their child, I know how it feels to be between mixed race.”  


Lance’s eyes softened. Usually Keith hated when people looked at him with pity, but somehow that look on Lance’s features didn’t seem like pity.  


“I know how that feels,” He said, rubbing the scales along his elbow. “It took me months of training to get my voice to carry enough intention in my songs, and even longer to start healing and shapeshifting. A lot of people didn’t think I could become an _Ayuto_ because I was so far behind the other mer my age in developing my powers. They thought that I had inherited none of my father’s powers.”

Keith leaned forward, his interest peaked. Lance was the first mer that he had met, but he seemed adept in his powers. Turning into a horse and taking out a fleet of Galran soldiers was no small feat, nor was killing a siren and saving a drowning man.  


“You know, maybe you should talk to Allura. I think she has some magical powers of her own.”  


Lance’s ears twitched in interest and Keith fought not to let his eyes linger there.  


“Really? I’m going to do that then.” He stared at Keith expectantly.  


Keith stared back. “What?”  


“Don’t _stare_ at me, you creep. I have to shift into my human form,” Lance said. His cheeks were flushed, but there was no malice behind his words.  
“Oh,” he said dumbly, looking away.  


As he stared across the deck, into the blue, he heard Lance breathe deeply before inhaling sharply. He wanted to look over, but he waited for Lance’s word, impatiently drumming his fingers on his arm.  


“Okay, you’re good,” Lance said.  


Keith looked back to find the merman sitting on the deck in the clothes he had bought at the market, stroking the skin of his legs. Lance claimed that he wasn't very good at taking his human form, but the skin of his legs looked smooth and supple. Part of Keith wanted to place his hand next to Lance’s and run it down the length of his leg.  
Great seas, no. He pushed the thought away.  


“Well, are you just going to gawk at me all day or can I get a hand up?”  


Keith stuck out a hand and hoisted Lance to his feet. For a minute, he thought he was going to throw up as his stomach protested this motion, but he swallowed heavily.  


“Thanks,” Lance said. His blue eyes stared into Keith’s for a moment before he strode across the deck to find Allura.  


Keith’s voice felt stuck in his throat, his stomach heavy and ready to rebel against him. He trudged down to the bathroom, kneeling on the floor over the toilet.  


He had been managing his curse fairly well for a while, but it was starting to act up more frequently with little provoking now. He heaved silently.  


He could feel the curse tugging at his skin, pulling at his hair, but there was little he could do about it. No matter what though, he was going to find Shiro. He gripped the rim of the toilet. Curse be damned.  


When Keith felt that his stomach was back under control, he stood up and splashed some water on his face, hoping it made him look less like someone who had just been curled over the toilet.  


When he re-emerged above deck, Pidge was waiting for him.  


“Round 2?” Pidge asked hopefully. Keith nodded, trying to push down his unease and nausea.  


“Kick his butt, “ Lance said, bumping fists with Pidge as he walked by. Pidge flashed a grin, pulling his sword out from the leather casing at his waist.  


Lance leaned against the railing, his arms crossed, tail still formed into his two slender legs. He appraised the two with blue eyes as they got into ready stances. Keith shot him a withering glance, which he ignored.  


“You ready, Captain?” Pidge asked.  


Keith unknotted the cramps in his hands, matching Pidge’s steady gaze. A grin stretched across his own face.  
“Never better.”  


The two danced around the deck, a pair in perfect synchronization, combating each other in graceful movements. Pidge swung at him and he ducked, avoiding the slash. He side swept with his legs, knocking Pidge’s balance, but he caught himself, swaying on unsteady legs. He rebounded with a punch at Keith, knocking the air out of his lungs.  


Keith swallowed the bile in his throat. He could feel the sweat pouring from his brow. It was the middle of the afternoon, when the sun was at the peak of its warmth, but Keith could still feel his curse dredging the air around him. From the way Lance was looking at him, he had a feeling that he could tell too.  


He grunted in frustration as he blocked another one of Pidge’s swings. There was no reason that he couldn’t do something as simple as train this kid how to use a sword. He had been using a sword for years, had undergone his own training. He knew he was damn good with a sword. He would be damned if he let this curse dwindle his ability to nothing.  


He swung his sword again, the ringing of the metal in his ears. Pidge tightened his grip of the hilt of the sword, just like Keith had shown him earlier. Keith pushed harder against the blade, his muscles contracting. Pidge pushed back, the tension between the two increasing. In a series of sharp movements, they parried against one another several times, each time coming back faster and stronger.  


Keith’s hands shook. The hilt of his sword felt slippery in his clammy hands. He could do this. He knew he could. With one final burst of strength, he slammed his sword against Pidge’s, knocking him back. Pidge fell to his knees, dropping his sword on the deck. He puffed for air, shirt soaked with sweat. Pidge’s bandanna had long since fallen off, revealing the fluffy brown curls he kept locked underneath it.  


Keith’s own sword fell from his grasp, meeting no resistance as his hand gave way. His legs followed a moment after as he sank to the ground.  


“Keith?” Pidge asked hesitantly.  


Keith stared down at his hands, red and sweaty. His vision was blurred and his shirt stuck to his back uncomfortably. He felt like the sun was roasting his flesh at a million degrees. He tried to unstick the shirt and pull it over his head, but his fingers wouldn’t move the way he wanted them to. They lay limp, a useless extension of his hand. His head felt heavy and as he blinked, the darkness sucked him in. The more he tried to blink the sweat out of his eyes, the longer the periods of darkness became.  


The last thing he heard before he blacked out, falling against the cool wooden floor was Pidge calling his name. 

 

“Coran! Hunk!” Pidge screamed. He shook Keith’s limp body again, but received no response. The only reassurance was the short huffs of breath from Keith’s lips.  


The other members of the crew appeared at Pidge’s shout.  


“What happened?” Coran asked, rushing to Pidge and Keith’s side. He peeled back Keith’s eyelid, taking a look at the dazed eye underneath.

“I don’t know,” Pidge stuttered. “He just passed out!”  


Hunk peered anxiously at Coran. “Heat stroke?” He asked.  


Coran fidgeted with the band of his eyepatch. “Maybe. Let’s take him to the infirmary and try to cool him down.”  


Hunk scooped Keith’s limp body up in his arms as Coran held open the door to below deck. Lance and Pidge hovered anxiously. As the entire crew crammed into the small medical bay, Hunk laid Keith down on the table.  


Coran placed a wet rag on Keith’s face, making his eyelashes flutter with the relief of coolness.  


“Is he going to be okay?” Pidge asked, fidgeting with his fingers.  


“He should be fine. We’re going to do everything we can for him.” Coran reassured him. “In the meantime, why don’t you and Allura go down to the galley and get something to cool you off? We don’t need another person passing out from heat stroke, right?”  


Pidge nodded numbly, his eyes still focused on Keith as Allura ushered him out of the room, closing the door behind her.  


Lance watched quietly. He didn't think this was heat stroke, but rather something to do with Keith’s curse. All day the thick aura had swarmed around the boy. It was always a constant presence, but today it just seemed angrier and heavier.  


He felt like he should tell Coran, but Keith hadn't wanted the rest of the crew to know. Besides, what did Lance really know about the curse, other than that it was there?  


Coran propped Keith up with one arm, lifting a canteen to his lips with the other. Water trickled from his lips as it poured down his throat. The young captain seemed to be on the edge of consciousness, enough to breathe and drink, but not to respond, like the haziness of waking from sleep.  


“The fastest way to cool him down would be to put him in the bathtub. Is that okay with you, Lance?” Coran asked.  


Lance nodded. “I’ll open the door for you,” He volunteered.  


Hunk lifted Keith up again, who flopped into Hunk’s chest. A soft groan sounded from the folds of his shirt. Lance darted out ahead of them to open all the doors. As the trio (plus Keith, who was basically dead weight) made their way down into the bowels of the ship, Lance glanced worriedly at Keith. He was still flushed pale white, his hair matted to his forehead, sweat trailing down the lines of his neck. The only other time Lance had seen the captain so pale was when he had thrown up the day Allura and Coran joined the crew.  


Coran tested the temperature of the water, swirling it with his hand as Hunk lowered Keith into the tub. When his body was submerged into the tub, Keith let out a gasp, his shoulders jerking upward. His eyes shot open.  


“Hunk, get some ice from the galley,” Coran instructed. “We need to bring down his body temperature drastically.”  


Hunk hurried from the room, leaving Lance and Coran alone with Keith. Lance watched as Keith’s chest heaved. It reminded him of the time that Keith had come into the bathroom of the captain’s quarters to throw up, dry heaving as his stomach rebelled against him and then heaving for air to fill the space.  


“Do you know where you are?” Coran asked Keith, placing a calm hand on his shoulder.  


“S-shiro’s bathroom,” Keith stuttered. His eyes were dilated, pools of black. 

“Right.” Coran said. “And do you know what happened to you?”  


“P-passed out after f-fighting with P-Pidge.”  


Hunk came back and poured a small bag of ice into the basin of the tub. Keith gasped again, throwing his head back as the temperature in the tub suddenly changed. He shivered violently, clutching the sides of the tub.  


“I brought more water,” Hunk said, handing Lance a tin cup of water. Lance approached Keith, slowly sinking to his knees by the side of the tub. He was careful not to spill any of the water as he brought the cup to Keith’s lips. Keith eyed him for a moment, his eyes wide and dilated before he gratefully gulped down the water. Lance put his spare hand on Keith’s forehead.  


“Holy seas, Coran, he’s still burning up!”  


“What do you mean, my boy?” Coran asked, looking at him quizzically. Lance pulled the cup away, despite Keith’s protests. Coran filled his place, testing his temperature.  


“I don’t understand,” he said, his brow furrowing.  


“Maybe it’s not a heat stroke?” Hunk asked.  


“Perhaps. Keith, can you tell me a little bit about how you were feeling earlier today?”  


Keith shivered. “Hot, sweaty.”  


“When did you start noticing this?”  


Keith curled his fingers into his palm. “Earlier today.”  


Coran tsked. “You should have let someone know that you weren't feeling well. You know better than to overwork yourself like that.”  
“I'm sorry.” Keith said.  


“If it’s not heat stroke, it may just be a common cold. We’ll have to keep an eye on your symptoms.” Coran said. “In the meantime, Hunk and I will go look for possible remedies we have aboard ship.”  


“I’ll watch over him,” Lance offered. He leaned against the wall, arms crossed until Hunk and Coran exited the room, the bathroom door clicking shut behind them. Keith met Lance’s eyes and by the look on the merman’s face, he could tell he wasn’t going to like where this conversation was going.  


“Your curse has physical consequences.” Lance said. It wasn’t a question. “That aura is eating you alive.”  


“You heard Coran, it’s just a common cold.”  


Keith pulled his legs up to his chest in the frigid water. He studied his knees for a moment. They looked the same as they always did, but he could feel the heaviness of the curse settling on his bones.  


“Tell me about your curse,” Lance demanded.  


“No,” Keith said, sagging in the water.  


“It’s affecting your physical health. Tell me. I won't tell the rest of the crew.”  


Keith sighed, staring up at the ceiling for a moment. “Swear it,” he said.  


“I swear I won't tell the rest of the crew,” Lance said impatiently.  


Keith swirled the water around for a minute, but Lance didn't push him. He merely sat at the edge of the tub, in the same spot that Keith had sat all those nights ago when Lance had first come aboard.  


“A witch cursed me so that anytime I fight, it drains me.”  


Lance’s eyes widened. “Just drain you?”  


Keith shrugged. “Kill me. Eventually.”  


They sat in silence for a minute as Lance let that sink in. There was no way a pirate could avoid fighting. There was no way _Keith_ could avoid fighting.  


He ran a hand through his hair. “I thought it was just a curse that implied your death, hastened it. Not something that literally sucked the life from you. How do you break it?” He asked.  


“I don't.”  


Lance wrinkled his nose. “But curses always have a stipulation. They can't be cast without one. Do you not know yours?”  


Keith stared at the water, swirling it absentmindedly. “It doesn't matter. I can't break the curse. I just need to find Shiro, nothing after that matters.”  


“What?” Lance said. “Who will captain Red if you die?”  


“Shiro is the original captain. Red can go back to being a merchant ship for Altea.”  


Lance leaned against the tub, getting in Keith’s personal space enough to make him look at him.  


“You promised to take me home. You’re going to find Shiro and then you’re going to live because you still have other things to do. I'm not going to let you die.”  


Keith blinked, his mouth agape. He regained his composure.  


“I thought you would be jumping for joy at my death.”  


Lance sniffed. “If you died, I wouldn't be jumping for joy, I'd be swimming because I certainly don't plan to stay aboard the _Red Lion_ forever.”  


Keith laughed, some of the color returning to his cheeks. “So you can get off the Red without my help but you can't find your home?”  


“It’s a long swim!” Lance protested. “And you promised. You haven't been very good at upholding those so far, so this will be your chance to prove me wrong.”  


“Wow, you can be wrong sometimes?”  


“Watch it, pirate.” Lance said, smiling.  


Keith leaned back in the tub, pushing the hair from his face and wiping away some of his sweat.  


“Did you talk to Allura about your powers?”  


“Yeah!” Lance beamed. “She said that she would help me with healing magic, because that’s what she specializes in!”  


Keith watched Lance with amusement. Compared to when he first came aboard, he was showing his animated side more often now and Keith loved it. He gestured with his hands and his voice rang beautifully with excitement. Keith’s favourite part of Lance’s joy was when his eyes shone, because it felt like they could light up the whole room.  


“I’ll have to find a teacher for my shape shifting and charming though. Anything I’ve learned about those past the elementary level I had to teach myself.”  


Keith found himself already missing the absence of Lance’s smile.  


“Why don't I prove to you that I can keep my promises even sooner? I’ll take you to a teacher.”  


“Really?” Lance exclaimed, practically jumping where he sat, his grin shooting ear to ear. “That’s great, I can't wait to tell Allura!”  


Keith yawned. “Go tell her now. I'm going to take a nap.”  


Lance frowned. “You can't take a nap in the tub. You’ll drown or something.”  


“Then help me to my bed.”  


With Lance’s assistance, Keith struggled to his feet, treading water. It reminded Lance of when he had thrown Keith aboard the Red after the siren attack. His face flushed red.  


“What?” Keith asked, looking at him.  


Lance shook his head. Keith didn't seem to remember the kiss, so there was no point in bringing it up and embarrassing himself further.  


Keith snatched a towel and futilely tried to dry himself. His legs felt numb from the cold water. Together the boys limped into the adjacent room.  


Look away,” Keith said, still clinging to Lance’s arm for support. Lance looked the opposite way as Keith peeled off his soaking clothes.  
“Does it look the same?” Lance asked.  


“What?”  


“Your body,” he clarified. “I don't know how accurate my human form is, I just concentrate on the ability to do it.”  


Keith laughed shortly. “Yeah, yours looks the same.”  


He pulled on some dry shorts and released his grip of Lance’s arm as he climbed under the sheets.  


Lance turned around to leave.  


“Hey Lance?”  


He turned around again, to find Keith buried in the pillows.  


There was a brief pause.  


“Thanks.”

 

“How is he?” Pidge asked as Lance came above deck.  


Lance waved. “He’s fine. Just sleeping now.”  


“Did his fever lessen at all?” Hunk questioned.  


“Yeah, seemed almost back to normal.” Lance lied. “I'm sure he’ll be fine after some rest.”  


Coran nodded. “I’ll go check on him in a few hours then.”  


“That’s good,” Allura said. “I was worried we wouldn't have what we needed aboard the ship. The nearest inhabited island is a few day’s sail from here.”  


“No, it’s cool. He already seems much better.” Lance reassured them.  


“Coran and I made a herbal remedy for fevers and colds so hopefully that will help balance his system.” Hunk said, showing Lance a small vial.  


Lance could see the lines of worry etched into Hunk’s face and curved into his thick eyebrows, his anxiety bubbling behind his eyes. He felt bad about lying to them, they were so concerned about Keith and they had no idea about his curse. But he had promised Keith that he wouldn’t say anything.  


“I'm sure he’ll really appreciate it buddy.” 

After a two days of rest, Keith was allowed to leave his bedroom. Mostly because the restless captain glowered at anyone who suggested otherwise. Coran did one last check up on him and deemed him healthy again. Some of the color had returned to his skin and he had stopped sweating profusely.  


“Must have just been a fever passing through, my boy,” Coran said. “They can be as sudden as a windstorm.”  


Apparently there was a port a few miles away from where the _Red Lion_ was sailing now. Keith decided that the crew should stop there to restock on some supplies and get the latest news before they embarked looking for a teacher. The ship was still stocked with food from the last time the crew had gone shopping, but Keith said this would be a good opportunity to get some fresh air since the ship’s air was “polluted with worry”. Besides, they could always refresh some of the perishables they had aboard and to buy more gunpowder for the cannons.  


Lance was bursting with excitement at the prospect of someone who would be able to teach him how to use his powers better. The excitement flowed through his veins, making him want to run laps or scream from Red’s highest mast. He wished they could skip going to the port and just sail straight there, but he understood the necessity for materials, especially since they didn’t really know how long of a journey it was going to be.  


Nevertheless, he always found it fascinating to see the land-walking humans. Hunk had told him that some of them lived their whole life on land, and that some of them couldn’t even swim! He couldn’t imagine not being able to swim. Not only was swimming more comfortable than walking, but it was the thing he did for fun, and the thing he did to relax.  


He had never seen the _Red Lion_ ’s crew swim, but at least they lived on the sea. Being on land all the time was unfathomable.  


The people at this port were dressed very strangely, in dirt stained overalls and long sleeve shirts even though it was relatively warm outside. The strangest part was that every person in that uniform was wearing a large light taped to a helmet on their heads.  


“What’s going on?” Lance asked as Pidge leaned over the railing beside him.  


“Hmm? Oh, those are miners. This island is known for its stone quarry.”  


Lance wrinkled his nose? “Miners?”  


“They dig tunnels deep in the earth to look for things underground. “ Pidge explained.  


Lance watched as a man wheeled a wheelbarrow full of rocks away. “Like gatherers?”  


“Like what?” Pidge asked, quirking a eyebrow at him. He was going to explain, but suddenly Keith called for Pidge to help lower the anchor. Pidge gave him an apologetic smile as he pulled away from the railing.  


Lance wanted to ask more questions about this strange profession of the humans. It sounded like they went out looking to gather materials, just like the merfolk who were gatherers back home. They would bring back seashells and sunken rarities to be sold and studied. It sounded a lot less fun if you had to go underground to do that though.  


The crew filed off of Red and once again made a plan. Allura and Pidge would buy the gunpowder, Hunk and Coran would restock on medical supplies and perishable items. Keith decided that he would go to the town’s tavern and see if he could find out what the latest news was. Thanks to the buddy system, Lance was roped into going with him.  


He whined the whole way there, but in reality, he didn’t mind that much.  


“Why do I have to go? All I ever see when we go to port is taverns.”  


“And whose fault is that? Last I checked, I didn’t _tell_ you to go to a tavern and make friends with a Galra general last time.”  


“No, but that still doesn’t explain why I have to go with you.”  


Keith shrugged. “Clearly, you need to be supervised. In reality, I’m the one saddled with you.”  


His tone betrayed nothing, but Lance didn’t miss the grin on his face as Keith pushed ahead.  


As they entered the bar, it took a minute for Lance’s eyes to adjust. The room was quite dark, with only a few windows letting in light. Overhead lights shone dimly above. As Keith and Lance sat down at the bar, the bartender gestured at them to let them know she’d be over in a minute.  


Lance looked around the room again. Not only were the lights dim, but the ceilings were close and with all the tables crammed in, the room felt very small. There were only a few patrons sipping beers. He couldn’t imagine what it was like being in here at prime time. People were probably always stepping on each other’s toes. In the sea, the merfolk were never wanting for any space. They had the largest parties Lance had ever seen, ones that filled miles of the ocean, that anyone was invited too. At least, the royal parties. Occasionally, his family hosted private parties that took place within the walls of the castle, but even those had never seemed overly crowded.  


“I think this is what it feels like to be underground,” Lance said, judging the distance of the ceiling from his head.  


Keith also looked around. “Yeah, I guess so. Seems pretty dreary.”  


The bartender came to their side of the counter. “We joke about that too. Our most regular customers are the miners, so we like to say that they only come here because it reminds them of the mine.”  


Lance snorted. In that case, he’d be staying far away from the mine. This wasn’t his sort of thing.  


“Anyways, what can I get you boys?” She asked.  


“Red Bourbon,” Keith said. “Same for him.”  


Lance gave him a look, but he didn’t protest. If he had learned anything from the last time he had gotten drinks, it was that other people knew what drinks were good way more than he did.  


“Coming right up.” The bartender ducked behind the counter to pull out two glasses and placed them in front of the boys. Then she cracked open a bottle and poured the liquid into them.  


With no hesitation, Keith picked up his cup and swallowed the drink. Lance watched as his lips puckered, his eyebrows contracting before smoothing out. His eyes dropped down to his lips again, slightly swollen and just as pink as the day he had almost drowned.  


If he kissed them now, would they still be salty? Were they forever painted with salt from his life at sea, leaving only the bare traces of sweetness underneath? Part of him suspected they would taste more like the Red Bourbon today. Would they be as soft as they had that day? He wanted to touch them again, to feel the press of his lips against Keith’s again. What? No, he didn’t. That was a one time thing, out of necessity. Keith would have _died_ without Lance’s help.  


He licked his lips as he realized they had suddenly gone very dry.  


“Lance?” Keith’s voice snapped him back to the present. He forced his eyes away from Keith’s lips and up to his eyes. “Are you okay? You totally spaced there.”  


“Yup, great. Never better.” Lance picked up his own cup and downed the liquid without a second thought. It didn’t taste bad, but it was a peculiar taste and it burned, making him pucker his lips the same way that Keith had, but it wasn’t a bad burn. In fact, Lance welcomed it. He let it burn a trail across his gums and down his throat, straight to his stomach. After the burn subsided, he could still taste it, a lingering sweetness.  


“Woah,” he said, looking wide-eyed at Keith as he put the cup down.

“I know,” Keith said. “It burns at first, but the taste is incredible.” He smiled and with the way the corner of his lips upturned and his eyes creased, Lance felt like the drink had hit his stomach again.  


For a minute, the boys just sat in silence, enjoying the bit of taste that lingered.  


“Would you two like another glass?” The bartender asked, coming over again and flashing smile. It was a nice smile, but the corners of her lips upturned a little too much that to Lance, it looked a little fake.  


“Yes please.” Keith said, pushing his glass towards her. Lance did the same and she refilled both. As she turned to leave, Keith leaned towards her and caught her attention.  


“Excuse me miss, I’m sorry to be a bother, but my friend and I were just talking about the recent things the Galran empire has been planning to do.”  


“The recent things?” She asked.  


Keith waved a hand nonchalantly. “Oh yes, you know what I’m talking about. All of their movement lately. The Galran empire has certainly been busy as of late.There hasn’t been any news on that lately, has there?”  


She wiped her hands on a dishrag, before using it to clean the counter. She leaned towards them.  


“Well, mostly it’s just been them talking about imperialization. That’s nothing new though.”  


Lance didn’t know what imperialization meant, but Keith nodded sagely. Instead of downing his glass the way he had before, Keith picked it up and took a small sip. Lance followed his lead, trying to look attentive. The bartender wiped down glasses as she continued.  


“They’ve been talking about taking more islanders. They need more resources, and by way of, also more free workers.”  


“Slaves.” Keith said grimly.  


“Do you know where they were last occupying?” Lance asked.  


“No, obviously the Galra are always sending their soldiers to imperialize islands and really, anything that moves. They have so many soldiers they can occupy a dozen islands at once. However, one of our ally islands was concerned a day or two ago because there was a giant Galran ship in sight of its harbor. They were looking for backup, but in the end called it off because it turned out just to be a large slave ship passing by.”  


Keith perked up.  


“Where is this island?” Keith pressed, a desperate note sounding in his voice.  


“It’s called Cryven, it’s northwest of here. But if I were you, I’d steer clear. The Galra have been swarming over in that region.” The bartender shrugged.  


“Thanks for the information.” Keith said, slamming his cup onto the bar, some of the alcohol splashing out. The bartender leaned back, a bit startled as Keith jumped from his chair and flew through the door, a windstorm, gone as suddenly as he had come. Lance nodded briskly, quickly draining his cup before following the breeze Keith had left behind.  


He jogged to catch up to Keith, who was striding ahead at twice the pace he normally was. His look was hard, but his eyes were distant.  
“What are you thinking?” Lance asked.  


Keith turned to him, broken from his thoughts.  


“Well, obviously we’re going to save Shiro.”  


Lance bit his lip, taking longer strides to keep in step with Keith. “And how do you plan to do that? Getting aboard that ship would be suicide.”  


“For me, maybe.” Keith replied. “I’ll explain the whole plan once we get the crew together.”  


It turned out that they didn’t need to get the crew together, because by the time they made it to the meeting place, Pidge, Hunk, Allura, and Coran were waiting for them. Each carried a bag of supplies in their arms.  


As they walked back to the ship, Keith explained what he was thinking.  


“You want to use Lance as bait?” Allura faltered.  


“Yeah, that’s kinda… not cool, man.” Hunk said.  


“Not as bait! All he would have to do is shapeshift and distract the soldiers aboard so that we can free Shiro. Lance can defend himself, right Lance?” Lance shifted uncomfortably as Keith continued. “ If Lance needs help getting away, we’ll be there to help him.”  


“So...bait?” Pidge asked. Keith frowned at him.  


“Everyone is getting out.” He said confidently. 

“You don’t even know Shiro is aboard that ship!” Lance protested. “From what that bartender was saying, it sounds like they have tons of slave ships that Shiro could be aboard.”  


Coran nodded. “Keith, you know that the chances of Shiro being aboard this ship are extremely low.”  


Keith rubbed his chin thoughtfully as the others put their packages on the deck. “That’s true, but there’s still the chance that he could be! I’ve done the math, and it’s possible for a ship to get to that region in the amount of time since he was taken.”  


A bad feeling settled in Lance’s gut. He stared pleadingly at Keith.  


“What about finding that teacher that you promised?”  


Keith looked away, staring up at the sky instead. “I’ll take you to that teacher right after we check this out. I promise. This is the first lead we’ve had in months. All the other ships we’ve seen have been merchant ships or warships. Guys, we _have_ to take this lead.”  


“Yeah, this is _definitely_ a lead.” Pidge muttered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The crew infiltrates a Galran ship. It goes according to plan. Definitely.

Lance slithered across the deck,slipping between the men. He licked his lips, exhaling air in an exasperated noise. He tried to pretend that his nerves weren’t getting to him.

“Snake!” One of the men yelled.

“What? Where?” The other men started picking up their boots, clomping all around the deck as they tried to locate the snake.

Darting between the hammers of their feet and hiding in the shadows, Lance hissed in anticipation. This was such a stupid plan.

“How does a snake even get aboard?”

“I don’t know and I don’t care, someone catch the damned thing!”

“Maybe at the port?” Someone else said.

Behind the men, Lance watched as Keith, Pidge, and Coran darted into the bowels of the ship. Their main mission was to find Shiro, who Keith was adamant they were keeping below deck.

“What about other prisoners?” Pidge had asked, tapping one foot against Red’s floorboards.

“Shiro is our main priority,” Keith replied.

Much to Lance’s surprise, Coran had stepped up at that point.

“We can’t leave innocent prisoners aboard that Galra ship. They’ll be sold into slavery.”

Keith studied Coran for a moment, his hand dangerously close to his knife in Lance’s opinion. But to his relief, Keith’s hand had gone slack at his waist.  
“What do you propose?” Keith asked.

“I don’t know what the inside of one of those ships is like, but there must be some way to spring the cells. There should be skiffs that we can give them, but we’ll need to defend them from all the men aboard first. They may be too weak to stage a rebellion.”

Keith thought about it for a minute. “Fine, but if I tell you that the _Red Lion_ is leaving, we’re leaving, no questions asked. I’m not sacrificing anyone on this crew.”

After that conversation, the tension had been thick in the air around the _Red Lion_. Hunk and Pidge fiddled with some mechanics quietly, glancing furtively at Keith from time to time. Keith paced across the deck, wearing tracks in the boots with the repeated steps of his leather boots. Allura shined her sword in silence, aggressively wiping the cloth against the blade.

Lance hadn’t known what to make of the silence. Usually, the crew was always cracking jokes with one another, or working together to solve a problem. He sat a few feet away from Keith, leaning against the rail of the _Red Lion_ , drumming his fingers against the smooth flesh of his leg.

With a sigh, Allura had sheathed her sword, the loudness of it startling everyone. Standing with a swish of her hair, she began to stride towards Keith, ignoring Coran as he attempted to call her back. Pidge and Hunk had watched with their eyebrows furrowed, Hunk wringing his hand.

“Keith, I still think we need to talk about this plan. Surely, there must be a better way to do it.”

Keith stopped in his tracks, turning to face her. For the first time, Lance really noticed how tired Keith looked. The bags hung as heavy and dark as storm clouds under his eyes. Lance wondered if he had slept at all in the few days it had taken them to sail past Cryven.

“I’m open to suggestions, but I’m not backing out.” He said.

“I don’t know what we should do, but this is practically suicide!” Allura exclaimed. “I don’t think it’s worth it to risk the lives of the crew over a _rumor_.”

“No one is going to die.” Keith insisted. “This is the first slave ship we’ve heard of in a while, and based on its location, it’s plausible that Shiro might be aboard. I won’t leave anyone behind, and that includes Shiro.”

“I know you wouldn’t, but you might not have a choice.” Allura said. “We’re going in completely outnumbered and we don’t know what to expect. You don’t even know what kind of condition Shiro is in.”

“That’s why Hunk and you are coming with me. You’ll defend us while we carry him out.”

Allura frowned. “You’re still planning on using Lance as bait.”

Lance studied the floorboards. He wanted to be useful to the crew, but he would be lying if he said the idea of being thrown on a ship with all those Galran men was terrifying to him.

Keith was also silent for a minute before he continued. “This ship is my kingdom, not yours. I know how to run it. You wouldn’t let the people of your kingdom suffer right? But sometimes you need to take risks. I don’t plan to make my crew suffer either, but I need to save Shiro.”

Sensing a finality to the issue, the rest of the crew started to slink away.

Lance had pulled himself up by the railing before stepping towards Keith. If they wanted to live through this mission, maybe there was someway he could use the Goddess’ gift to help aid the crew. He grabbed onto his sleeve and whispered in a hushed voice.

“Keith, you can’t fight with your curse. Maybe I can hel-”

Keith glowered at him. “I don’t want to hear it. This is the plan, this is how we’re doing it. Everyone, myself included, will be fine. I need to save Shiro. There’s no other option.”

“It’s not about that, exactly. Actually, Merfolk have-”

But Keith was already walking away, his shoulders slumped, footsteps loud and angry. Lance swallowed heavily. He didn’t know what was going to happen aboard this slave ship, but he was sure it wasn’t going to be good.

This wasn’t going to end well. As Keith slunk down the hall of the Galra ship, tailed by Hunk and Allura, he began to see the flaws in his plan. Although he had a basic knowledge of the layout of Galra ships, the bottom two floors of the ship held the prisoners and Keith wasn’t sure which floor Shiro would be on.

Hunk struggled to stay still, his anxiety making his hands shake and sweat pour down his face. Keith couldn’t blame the poor guy, considering the amount of Galran sailors patrolling the ship. There were more than he thought there would be.

Keith made a hand gesture to Allura and Hunk, jerking his thumb towards the sailor who was patrolling around the corner from where they were hiding. They nodded back, hands on their weapons.

Cautiously, Keith peeked around the corner. Seeing that the man had turned him back, Keith motioned to his crew and together, they flew out of hiding towards the man.

The man spun around at the sound of their boots, hand on the hilt of his sword. But in that second of time, the three of them had already crossed the distance. Hunk fired his musketoon and the man fell to his knees, clutching his chest. A few more guards appeared, due to the first’s cries, but they were quickly subdued as well.

From the same direction as the others, another man appeared. Allura raised her cavalry sword, but her movements were slow and sluggish within the confines of the ship’s walls. She blocked his sword with her own, but as he brought back his sword again, she couldn’t push it away in time and the blade nicked her shoulder as she dodged. Hunk fired his musketoon again, landing a bullet on his target.

“Are you okay?” He asked Allura, reloading his gun. She looked down at her arm, where blood was making the black of her undershirt even darker. The sword had managed to cut her directly below her pauldron. She pulled a handkerchief out of the pouch at her waist and tied it around her arm.

“Yeah, it’s a shallow cut. Let’s press on.”

“When we find Shiro you can use my sword. It’s better for using in close-quarter spaces like this.” Keith said.

Allura nodded, sheathing her blade. She hadn’t complained about the plan at all since coming aboard but Keith could see the line of worry in her brow.

Together, the three pushed on, into the depths of the ship.

“Look in every cell!” Keith called as he efficiently knocked out another guard with the blunt of his sword. “If he’s not here, he’s one level below!”

Allura and Hunk split, each going opposite ways to peer through the bars. Keith took the opposite side. As he went from cell to cell, his horror grew. The cells were tiny, most occupying multiple people. The people inside were all different ages and races. Their hair hung limp and greasy, and many looked incredibly thin. When they looked up at Keith he could see the hollowness in their eyes, the hunger from behind their bruised faces.

He knit his fingers together. He needed to find Shiro, and soon.

“I don't think he’s on this level,” Hunk said. “We’ll have to keep going.”

Allura looked around the prison in a horrified wonder. “There’s so many prisoners in here. I don't know how we’re going to free them all.”

“Let’s press on,” Keith said. “We can't leave Lance to his own devices for very long.”

Back on the main deck of the Galra ship, Lance realized he was losing the attention of the men. The chaos had faded and they were debating on who had the right of shooting the snake. Lance was fairly sure he could dodge the bullets, but he had limited experience with guns and wasn't particularly fond of the idea of getting shot.

Also, unfortunately for him, most of the men had calmed down after the initial shock of seeing a snake threading itself underneath their boots, chalking it up to be a harmless snake that slid aboard during their time at a port. Letting the men get a glimpse of him only prompted them to take aim at him.

No men had come up from the lower decks to report an intrusion, so Lance assumed Keith’s part of the plan was going smoothly thus far. Unless that idiot had already fought so much that he passed out. Either way, the plan had only just begun and Lance needed to keep these men distracted.

He could become a horse, but he felt like that would just make the men shoot him even faster.

He took a deep breath, stealing his wits. There was really only one option here if he wanted to maintain the distraction. He would give all these men something to stare at.

With one more deep breath, he closed his eyes and began to focus his concentration. He never thought he’d say it; but he really hoped Keith came back soon.

It took Keith, Hunk, and Allura longer than they thought to make it to the bottom level of the ship. On the way down, they passed what was essentially a break room for some of the lower ranking guards, which basically resulted in an all out brawl.

Hunk fired his musketoon a few times, but was struggling to reload it in time against so many men, and Allura eventually abandoned her large sword in favor of just straight out brawling with the men.

Keith learned that she could really pack a punch.

She decked another man in the weak spot of his armor and he crumpled to the ground. To her partners raised eyebrows, Allura merely shrugged and said, “the weapons master taught me martial arts as well.”

Despite himself, Keith laughed as he cut down the last remaining opponent with a whisk of his sword. The princess of Altea was full of surprises.

The bottom prison mirrored the upstairs one, except that it was darker. The prisoners down here truly never saw the light of day. Grabbing a torch off the wall,

Keith resumed his search. He tried to catch his breath, but it felt like it was caught in his chest. As he moved from cell to cell, some of the people squinted through the darkness at him as he shone a light into their cells, others didn't even move.

As he approached one of the last cells, he made out the figure of a broad shouldered man, haggard looking and hunched over, his dark hair long and limp.

Hope struck Keith like a lightning bolt on the ocean.

“Shiro?” He asked, his voice almost hoarse.

The man looked up, and suddenly all the hope was drained, leaving Keith empty and dull inside.

Two chilling green eyes, so unlike the dark gray ones that filled with warmth every time they saw him peered at him from behind the shade of dark hair. Now that Keith was looking at him, he could see that this man also had a much slimmer figure.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, so faint it was probably covered by the distant sound of waves outside the boat.

As he turned, Hunk and Allura were standing there, looking just as crestfallen as he did. Shiro wasn't here.

Keith fought the numbness that was building inside him. Shiro wasn't here. This has all been for naught. Shiro wasn't here. He had allowed himself to get his hopes up and now the crash was more than he could handle. He wished he could take his sword and stab his feelings until they all fell away.

Allura took a deep breath, drawing her shoulders upward. Despite her sadness, she never allowed herself to curl inward.

“What are we going to do about all of these prisoners? There are more than I thought, but we can't just leave them here.”

At that moment, Keith was finding it really hard to care about the other prisoners. He fought back the urge to snap at Allura when the boat suddenly careened dangerously. The three stumbled, trying to keep hold of their torches. Inside the cells, several of the prisoners cried out in fear.

A feeling of panic, of urgency, of wanting washed over Keith. He tried to swallow his uneasiness as he looked up at the ceiling, as if he could see through the multiple levels, straight to the top.

“Lance needs help,” he said.

As Lance’s body morphed into his mer form, his scales became longer and bluer, his tan skin restretching over his form. The men around him gasped, forming a wide circle around where he was in the center of the deck.

For a moment, everything was silent except for the waves steadily moving underneath the ship and the gasps of air Lance took in after his transformation.

For a minute, all eyes were on him, and then slowly the sailors began to unfreeze, giving each other nervous looks and murmuring quietly.

“Is that an actual mer?”

“Don't get too close, those things are vicious! Bite yer head clean off!”

“What’s it doing here?”

It made Lance uncomfortable to have all these men staring at him, a look of greed overpowering their fear. Nevertheless, he stayed silent, flapping his tail against the wood where he sat.

It wasn't until the men started to approach that he opened his mouth. He bared his sharpened teeth and growled at them, which was enough to make several men jump back a bit.

“Stay where you are,” he said, channeling as much intention as he could into his voice. It would take a lot to gain control over this many people.

The men froze in place, their limbs too heavy to move. They looked at each other in confusion, except for one man. He hadn't approached Lance to begin with, but he wore an amused expression on his face. Easily, he took a step forward.

“You must be the merman from that island that squadron 5 captured.”

Lance whipped his head towards the man. He didn't understand, why didn't his voice work? The soldier was middle aged, with thick leather boots and a long beard tied at the tip, who was surveying the scene calmly.

“How do you know about that?” Lance asked.

The Galra soldier shrugged. “It’s all anyone talked about for days after that squadron reported in.” The soldier laughed. “It took them forever to convince us they weren’t high on juniberries.” A smirk played across his lips.

“How can you move?” Lance asked, eyeing the man warily as he moved about the deck.

The man grinned, putting his yellowed teeth on display. He moved towards Lance, who bared his teeth again in reply. It didn't hinder the man though, as he just grinned and strode closer, until he was an arm’s length away.

He pointed a hand at his ears.

“I man the cannons aboard the ship, and have done so for years. I lost hearing in both ears, so now I just read lips. Your devil’s tongue has no power over me, siren.”

Lance would have commented on the wrong usage of siren, but the man had stepped even closer and now he was panicking.

The man’s hand drifted in the air for a moment, before catching his jaw and forcing him to open his mouth. The man looked at his teeth while the men stared in awe behind him.

“It’s such a shame that they lost you to those pirates,” the soldier said, appraising him with a dark glint in his eye. “I would have taken much better care of you.”

Lance shuddered, flexing his fingers. He wanted to claw this man so badly, but he was serving as a distraction and if he killed this man, the other men might break through his intention to kill him too.

No, for now, he’d have to grin and bear it.

Another soldier narrowed his eyes. Although his body was frozen, sadly his mouth was not. “Speaking of which, where is that pirate crew?”

Lance blinked. Maybe he hadn't thought this through all the way. He hadn't really expected the crew to know who he was.

“I didn't like the captain, so I escaped. I was trying to find a ship that would take me back home. Guess I chose the wrong one.” Lance sniffed, praying silently that they wouldn't send men to investigate the lower levels of the ship.

The men studied him for a second, before one chuckled a bit.

“We’ll take you home, but only if you introduce us to your family.”

“Where there’s one mermaid, there must be more,right? Sightings of the merfolk are so rare that we’ve had our men scavenging that island for days.”

One of the men’s friends, a large man with an unkempt beard and smoker’s breath, laughed.

“Yeah, you wouldn't happen to have a sister, huh, fish? I promise I’d treat her right.”

“I heard that mermaid scale were incredibly valuable on the black market,” another soldier murmured to his friend.

His friend scoffed. “Any part of a mer is valuable on the black market. Do you know how rare those things are? We could make a fortune off of just this one, never mind all his friends down in the deep blue sea.”

Lance had expected this. He was supposed to be a distraction, and if the men weren't talking about their plans for him they probably weren't very distracted. But as much as he tried to ignore them, it was like an ocean wave had just crashed over him. His world was suddenly upside down, cold, and blurred with rage.

The spell of his voice was starting to wear off, as the men became less afraid of him and the passion of the moment wore off.

He opened his mouth to renew the charm, but the man still had a hand on his jaw and squeezed his mouth closed roughly. He glowered at the man, but he merely grinned back.

Lance wanted to say something, to charm this man, even to just _scream_ at him, but it would literally fall upon deaf ears. To make matters worse, he couldn't stop thinking about his family now that the other soldiers had mentioned it. He was so angry, he felt his voice curl up on his tongue and die there.

His mouth was a locked chamber, the bars of his teeth solid and stern. There was no escape. The shock wore off, like waves receding, but he could still feel his rage bubbling under the surface. His fists were balled, sharpened fingernails digging into the flesh of his palm. He could stand no more.

The Galran soldier’s eyes went wide and he yelled out in pain. When Lance looked down, his claws were in the flesh of this man’s leg. They had torn straight through his pants, and when Lance's hand came away, it was stained red. The familiar scent of blood tinged the air.

Another soldier yanked the deaf soldier back, fear apparent in his eyes. Lance’s eyes glowed blue with an intense light, piercing anyone who dared look straight at them.

“Oh my God, what have you done?” Another soldier asked nervously.

The Galra soldier didn’t reply, his hand cradling his ripped leg, his eyes still frozen in entrancement with the figure radiating power in front of him.

The waves surged, rocking the boat as easily as a cradle. They surged over the rails, flooding the deck and knocking men off their feet. They parted easily around Lance, creating a small cavern for only him. The water swaddled him like a bubble of protection.

These Galran men would never lay a hand on his family, he swore to the Goddess. His sister was strong, she was strong enough to be their future ruler, but he would never let her, or any of his other family see the horrors and the greed of these men. His family deserved better than that.

The rage fueled him, lit a match in the gasoline of his blood. Suddenly, Lance felt more awake and energized then he ever had before. The scale began shedding off his tail, revealing brown skin underneath as his legs formed. He stood, and somehow he was taller than the men before him. The chamber of his mouth unlocked as he found his voice.

_“I’ll tear you all apart!”_ He roared, his voice becoming one with the wind.

Keith bolted up to the top deck, flying past all the men they had taken out along the way. A few more men had shown up, trying to figure out what had happened to their friends, and they yelled at him as he ran, but he didn't stop to fight.

He had given Allura and Hunk permission to stay below and try to figure out what they were going to do with all these prisoners, but he had a feeling deep in his gut that Lance needed his help.

Now that his head had cleared somewhat, guilt was filling in his stomach. He had led his crew here on a wild goose chase and it had been for nothing. He had _known_ Lance was uneasy about the plan, but he had forced him to do it anyway. If anything happened to Lance now, or anyone for that matter, he would never forgive himself.

He sprung out the door onto the main deck. Instead of the calm weather they had entered the ship on, a storm raged above. No, Keith realized he was wrong. _Lance_ was the storm.

Above the ship, Lance’s body floated in a ball of blue protection, surrounded by a tornado of wind. The mer’s eyes were bright, ethereal blue, and he looked _mad_.

Around the ship, Galran men stared up at the sky in shock, their swords and musketoons in their hands uselessly. Several of them were lying on the deck, coughing up sea water.

Pidge materialized at Keith’s side and he was so mesmerized by Lance that he visibly jumped when Pidge laid a hand on his shoulder.

“We need to stop him.” He said. “If we don’t, not only will he destroy this ship, but he’ll destroy the _Red Lion_ too.”

Keith’s gaze tore away from Lance towards his beloved ship, which was rocking just as wildly as the Galran ship. Actually, because the _Red Lion_ was so much smaller, she was rocking even more, water washing over her rails as she rocked dangerously close to the side of the Galran slave ship.

“How do we stop him?”

Pidge drummed his fingers on the holy of his sword. “I don't know. He’s protected by that bubble, but it must be draining his energy. Is there a way to drain his energy faster?”

Keith scoffed, wringing his fingers together. “Yeah, make him angrier. I don't think we want that, though. he could easily kill us all. Do you think draining his energy would hurt him?”

Pidge hummed. “I'm not sure. That’s a good point. Maybe we have to try to break through to him and convince him we’re not the enemies.”

Hunk appeared in the doorway that Keith had come through.

He was flocked by dozens of prisoners, wearing their ragged clothes and supporting one another. Allura was behind the group, protecting the flank.

“Oh God, what’s going on?” He asked.

“Wish we knew buddy,” Keith said.

Allura looked at the scene before them. “We need to get these prisoners out of her. If there’s a battle, they’ll only get caught up in it.”

“There’s some skiffs that they can take, but the sick ones will need to come aboard the _Red Lion_.” Hunk said. “We can drop them off at the next port. I dare say we’ll have to make a stop anyway after this,” he said, hazarding a glance at Lance’s angry form in the air.

Pidge re-explained his plan, and Hunk nodded thoughtfully.

“Do you think he sees us as friends?” Keith asked. In reality, he wasn't sure if they were even friends to begin with. Every time he spoke to Lance, they always seemed to be in some sort of argument.

“I hope so.” Hunk said solemnly.

Keith swallowed and looked at the group. The prisoners looked fearful of Lance’s ominous form, but concern was clear on the crew’s faces.

“Hunk, show the able-bodied prisoners to the skiffs, Allura take the others to the _Red Lion_ and then fill Coran in on what’s happening, although I’m sure he couldn't really miss this,” Keith gestured to the sky. “Pidge, you and I are going to try and help Lance.”

Pidge clenched his fists. “Alright, let's do this.”

Lance’s thoughts were so cloudy. Everything was hazy except for the soldiers who were scrambling around on the deck below. He wanted to laugh, they were so small and weak compared to himself.

They thought they could control him. They thought they could take his family from him. Well, they thought wrong because he would protect everything that he loved.

A flash of green caught his eye, and his attention was diverted momentarily. A small human was waving their arms at him amidst the chaos of the panicking soldiers. For a minute, Lance considered wiping them off the deck with a wave, but something stopped him. He… knew that person?

That person was his… family? No… that wasn't it…

He couldn't put his finger on it, but there was something familiar about that person that made him think he shouldn't push them overboard.

The person took off their green bandanna, freeing a wave of curly brown hair, and waved the scrap of fabric at him. They yelled something up at him, but the words were whisked away in the wind, lost forever. The winds increased and they clung to the mast as the winds whipped around them, threatening to blow them overboard.

Another familiar human approached, his tall and heavy stance giving him more power against the wind. Slowly, but surely, he made his way towards Lance’s whirlwind, pushing his bangs from his eyes. With a gesture of Lance’s hand, a wave crashed against the ship, rolling over the railing and slamming into Hunk’s strong body. He tumbled backwards, slamming into one of the ship’s walls.

Something about that cleared a little of the fog in his mind away as he started to place the faces with names.

This time, Pidge’s words were heard as he screamed Hunk’s name, rushing to his side.

All around the Galra soldiers were starting to scatter. None of those men should escape, they would go back to his island, they would hurt his family, they would hurt his friends. He couldn’t let that happen.

A giant wave rushed over the boat, covering the planks and knocking the Galran sailors over with the ease of a bowling ball. The wave pushed them overboard and their crewmates scrambled to help them back aboard.

Lance’s hyper blue eyes scanned the deck, looking for any remaining Galra. The power still flowed through his veins, ruffling his hair and levitating his body above the ship. The ship continued to rock violently as the waves attempted to jump to his aid.

“-ance! Lance!” a voice cried over the chaos. The wind roared as Lance looked for the source.

“Lance!” Keith screamed again. He stood below, in front of Lance. The whirlwind surrounding the ship raged around him, ripping at his hair and his shirt. His sword was still in his hand, hanging limply at his side. The blade was stained red, much like the sands of Lance’s home.

Rage boiled within him, as red as that blood. The Galra weren’t the source of his problem, it was _him_. If he hadn’t captured him, no, if he had never led the Galra to his island in the first place, his family would be safe, his friends would be safe, _he_ would be safe.

The waves crashed against both sides of the ship in a symphony. Pieces of the rail broke off, flying in the air before being dragged back by the sea.

Why hadn’t Keith _listened_ to him? He was only trying to help, and now there were dead bodies as a consequence. This whole thing had been pointless.

Keith looked up at him, his dark eyes sorrowful and pleading.

“They’re gone, Lance, the Galra are gone now! You’re safe!”

No, he would never be safe. Not as long as he was away from his island, from his family.

Keith took a step forward. The environment roared in anger. How _dare_ he?

“I’m so sorry, Lance. I really am. I’m _so_ sorry.”

Lance blinked, his vision blurring. Keith looked so small, so ashamed. In his short time aboard the _Red Lion_ , he had never seen the captain look like that, not even when he was sick.

The winds died a little, and Lance swayed in the air.

“I know I promised you that I would take you to find a teacher and I didn’t mean to use you as bait. I was so sure that Shiro was here, but I was _wrong_. “ His voice sounded wistful and broken and something about it dug into Lance’s consciousness. He could feel the barrier around himself becoming weaker, fading with every passing moment.

Keith stepped forward again, ignoring the pressure of the bubble around Lance.

“Please forgive me. I promise I’ll take you home if that’s what you want. I should have thought this plan through more. Everyone was right, I did need more information.”

Just like that, the bubble broke and the winds died. Keith rushed forwards as Lance fell from a few feet above. The merboy tumbled into his arms and he stumbled to keep his balance on the slick boards. Lance looked up at Keith, whose face was painted with concern and sadness.

His eyes, lit with an ethereal blue stared into Keith’s dark gray ones for a moment before the light died and he slumped against Keith’s chest.

Exhaustion filled his bones and weighed down his flesh. Suddenly, the idea of holding his human form seemed impossible. He could feel the scales creeping up his legs as they morphed together and his gills being scissored into his ribcage.

Keith threaded his hand through Lance’s hair and he settled into the touch. Despite the coldness of the water and the wind, Keith’s hand was warm, and he nuzzled into it. A sense of contentment filled him as he breathed in the salt of Keith’s shirt.

Keith swallowed, adjusting Lance in his arms. “We’ll go look for that teacher now.”

Lance opened his mouth to reply, but like an ocean wave rushing over him, the darkness of sleep came upon him and he promptly passed out, unable to resist its lure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AH I'VE BEEN SO EXCITED TO RELEASE THIS CHAPTER. I was gonna delay it by a week, but I couldn't wait. My last two midterms are tomorrow, but otherwise I've done okay so far. I'm gonna sleep for a week after those tests, I'm so tired
> 
> Leave a comment and tell me what you thought, you're all the love of my life
> 
> or come chat on my tumblr![ celestial-caster](https://celestial-caster.tumblr.com/)
> 
> ALSO please go reblog and love the art from this fic, from [saltwater-paladin!](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/saltwater-paladin)


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance wakes up, the ship gets repaired, and Keith and Lance have a bonding moment ;)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's short, I'm not entirely happy with this chapter, but I think you all will enjoy it. At long last, some of your questions are answered! \\(0w0)/

He opened his eyes, his vision hazy, life flashing momentarily in front of him. Briefly he was able to hear voices or see parts of faces, but in the end he was always taken back by the darkness.

His eyelids felt heavy, his entire body made out of lead. His dreams were quiet and dark. There was no word from the Goddess, but he was relieved to be free from the nightmares about his family.

At some point, he started hearing voices again through his sleep. More like one voice. It seemed very familiar. He could match the voice with a swath of dark hair and grey eyes, and a slight scowl, but he couldn't place a name with the face.

He fought with the darkness that was bubbling down again. Like a weightlifter, he pushed the heaviness of his eyelids upward, and struggled for a moment to keep them open. He blinked furiously, trying to clean the haziness and sleep from his eyes.

The boy has been leaning on his elbows on the rim of the tub, but when he saw Lance struggling to look at him, he sat upright with shock.

“Lance!”

Lance made a noncommittal noise. The haze was fading and the pieces were falling back together.

“Keith.”

A visible wave of relief washed over Keith as he slumped back down onto the rim of the tub.

“I- we were worried you wouldn't wake up. You’ve been sleeping for three days.”

Lance blinked the sleep from his eyes and flapped his tail, disrupting the water in the tub and ran a hand through his hair. “Three days?”

Keith looked at him cautiously. “Do you remember what happened?”

Lance thought about that for a moment. There had been a ship… a Galran ship… and it had been destroyed...no... _he_ had destroyed it...

The details were coming back to him slowly, but he nodded.

“Wow, I didn't know I could do all that.”

Keith laughed shortly. “Yeah, we didn't either.”

The boys lapsed into silence for a moment before Keith stood up, straightening his clothes.

“I should go tell the others that you’re awake. They’ve been really worried.”

Lance watched as he strode out the door, a spring in his step. Lance sank down in the water, until the water was up to his nose. He blew some bubbles. Every part of his body was sore and he had a killer headache.

Suddenly, the rest of the crew burst through the bathroom door.

“Lance! You’re awake!” Hunk exclaimed.

“How are you feeling, my boy?” Coran asked.

“I’ve been better,” Lance laughed. “But overall, I'm good.”

“Great calamity, you scared us.” Allura said. “You slept like the dead for three days.”

Coran kneeled by the tub with a medical kit. He took Lance’s blood pressure and checked for a fever.

“Do you feel sick?” He asked.

Lance shook his head. “Just _tired_ , which may be hard to believe for someone who just slept for three days. I have a mild headache too.”

Coran hummed. “I make you up a potion for that headache.”

“You still have some time to sleep,” Pidge said. “We’re sailing to Balmera to make ship repairs, but we’re still a day or so away.”

“Ship repairs?”

“Yeah, you sort of… broke some of Red while you were destroying that Galra ship.” Hunk said. “Nothing major though, just a ripped sail and some broken parts where she bashed against the other ship.”

Lance looked at them sheepishly. “I'm sorry. I don't really know what happened out there. I just lost control.”

Allura placed a hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay, we’ll figure it out. For now, you should get some more rest.”

The crew filed out and Lance sunk back down, closing his eyes. This time, instead of letting sleep overpower him, he merely accepted it. And if a particular dark haired captain slunk back into the room to sit by the tub again, he was none the wiser.

When Lance woke up again, he was alone. He didn't know what time it was, but he was very much tired of sitting in this tub.

He closed his eyes and tried to concentrate, focusing on pushing back his scales and separating his tail into two forms.

His flesh ran hot like it was burned, breaking his concentration and causing him to cry out.

Keith rushed into the room, a plate in his hands.

“What happened? Are you okay?”

Lance was reeling from the shock but he slowly nodded.

“I tried to go see what all of you were up to,” he grimaced, “but I guess my body’s not ready for that.”

“Don't push it. You exerted a lot of energy.”

Keith sat down again, placing the plate on the edge of the tub. “This is for you,”

Lance raised an eyebrow at him and he turned scarlet.

“Hunk thought you might be hungry after three days of not eating. If you can't stomach it though, we can find something else.”

Nope, Lance was good. The three grilled fish on the plate were filling the air with a delicious aroma and now that Lance thought about it, he was starving.

He scarfed down the fish, practically cleaning the bones.

“Someone’s hungry,” Keith teased.

Lance was so hungry, he wasn't even going to joke about it. He nodded furiously, and Keith laughed. The upturn of those lips sent a shock through Lance’s heart, but he tried not to think about it.

The two spent the night casually sharing conversation and jokes until Lance’s eyelids got too heavy to keep open and they both turned in for the night.

 

After breakfast the next morning, Lance decided that he would try again to shapeshift into a human.

He spent a long time with his eyes closed, breathing in and out deeply while he mustered up all the energy he had gained through sleep.

Slowly, he felt his scales recede, and his tail shrink and mold as two legs were created. On legs almost as shaky as they had been the first time he’d done this, he climbed out of the tub and with a hand to the wall, put his clothes on.

He wobbled his way down the hall, although he had to sit down for a minute to catch his breath and ease the ache in his legs.

When he made it to the upper deck, Pidge gave him a high five.

“Look who’s up and walking around! Just in time too, we’re about to get to Balmera.”

“Wouldn't miss it for the world.” He replied.

Allura smiled warmly from where she was steering the ship. “I'm glad you’re feeling better Lance.”

Lance smiled back at her, going over to the railing. He could see what they had meant about the ship needing repairs, as the first thing he noticed was that the Red Lion was missing several pieces of the railings. The island they were approaching was dusty, miles of sand stretching for as far as the eye could see. The town was bordered by a canyon with the town nestled in the middle.

Hunk walked around the ship, examining the various parts of the ship.

“Can I come with you into town?” Lance asked.

Hunk quirked an eyebrow, looking up from where he was examining a rail post. “Are you sure you’re ready? You only just got back on your feet.”

Lance scratched the back of his head. “I caused the damage, the least I could do is help. Besides what are friends for?”

Hunk studied him for a minute before his face broke out in a large grin. “Sure thing, buddy.”

“Ooh, you’ll get to meet Hunk’s _girrlllfriend_!” Pidge sang.

Hunk’s face suddenly became very sunburned. “She’s not my girlfriend.”

Pidge laughed, slapping him on the shoulder. “Whatever you say, man. Wait till you see them, they’re total lovebirds. This is practically the only place Hunk comes for parts, unless it’s really dire. His girlfriend runs the mech shop.”

“She’s not my girlfriend,” Hunk insisted.

Pidge raised a hand as he walked away. “Tell her I said hi!”

Hunk rolled his eyes, grumbling under his breath. Taking a deep breath, he recomposed himself and ushered for Lance to follow him.

Lance stayed slightly behind him as they made their way through Balmera. Not only were Hunk’s strides longer, but he was very good at making his way through the crowds, creating a path for Lance to follow without being bumped into by many people.

Finally they reached a small shop with a wooden sign and a window display of various large mechanical parts.

When they stepped inside, a small bell rung above their heads. Lance flinched at the sound, and then looked up in wonder as it jangled for a moment more before falling silent. He shut the door behind him, causing it to make the noise again. He moved to pull the door back open, but Hunk laid a hand on his wrist and shook his head.

“Hunk! It’s been forever!”

Their attention was drawn away by the sound of a young woman’s voice. In front of them, a woman with hair as dark and sweet as the earth and large triangular earrings stood, a wrench in her hand and a grin across her lips.

Her eyes were a warm amber yellow color that Lance found himself drawn to.

“Shay!” Hunk said, stepping forward. They embraced, and with the power and length of that hug, Lance could see why Pidge thought there was a little more between these two than friendship. Finally, they released each other, Shay’s hand still on Hunk’s shoulder. She stuck her free hand out to Lance.

“Hello, I’m Shay. Are you a new member of the crew?”

“I guess so. I’m Lance,” He replied, shaking her hand.

When she dropped his hand, he wiggled his fingers a little. Shay’s muscles were clear for anyone to see, but _Goddess_ , she had a strong grip!

“It’s been awhile since you guys have been this way. I assume you’re in need of some ship repairs?” she asked.

“Yes, Red needs a new sail and some railing replacements. The worst part is that her crystal is running a bit slow. I think it got dislodged and chipped a bit, so I think you’re going to need to come out and look at her.”

Shay bustled around her shop, pulling a sail off the shelf before shaking her head and replacing it.

“That’s okay, it’s been a slow day. Besides, I’d do anything for my favorite shipwright.” She said, blushing slightly.

Hunk’s face turned several shades of red. As she disappeared into the back room, Lance turned to him.

“Goddess, Pidge was right. You should just date already.”

Hunk opened his mouth to make a snarky comment, but it was cut off as Shay came back into the room, several large boxes tucked under her arms.

“This should cover it for the railings and the crystal. I don’t have the right color and size sail for Red, but I had my brother go fetch one. He should be back momentarily.”

Shay leaned against the counter of her shop, smoothing out her tunic. She and Hunk devolved into some conversation laden with sugar sweetness and low-key flirting, which Lance tuned out. He wandered around Shay’s store, looking at all the bits and bobs that he knew nothing about. In one case, there was a display of several large crystals, different colors and glowing distinctly. It reminded him a little of the crystals back home that illuminated his kingdom.

The bell over the door rang again, and in stepped a man just as strong as Shay, but taller. He carried a red square of fabric folded up neatly. He scowled when he saw Hunk.

“Here,” He thrusted the package at his sister. “Salina sends her regards.”

“Thanks Rax. I’ll be gone for a few hours, can you mind the shop?”

Her brother huffed, but he took her place behind the counter.

By the time they made it back to the ship with all the gear, there was only a few hours of daylight left. Hunk, Pidge and Keith made quick work of replacing the railing while Shay worked on replacing the crystal, which Lance later found out from Pidge was apparently the ship’s main method of power, other than wind. Hunk stopped early to make dinner with the help of Shay and the crew had dinner together with Shay as their special guest. After dinner, the entire crew pitched in to help replacing the sail before the sun set completely.

As Hunk had left to walk Shay back to her shop, hand in hand, Lance had turned in, shifting back to his mer form and relaxing in the tub. For a while he just enjoyed a good soak of his scales, but when he tried to close his eyes and go to sleep, he found his mind running in circles.

His mind was full of images of dark eyes, darker hair, and pale skin. He wanted to touch, he wanted to _look_ , until his eyes got so drunk he could no longer stand. In his mind’s eye he could see Keith dancing across the deck, using his sword gracefully. Fighting would damn him, but he looked so great when he did it. He almost looked… like he was enjoying it. It was one of the few times Lance could see a shine in his eyes and the hint of a smile twitching at the corner of his lips.

Eventually he drifted off to sleep, the faintest of smiles playing on his lips. However, the peace wasn't made to last. Soon, he found his dreams plagued by the concerned faces of his family, before they were all ravaged and marred with red.

A giant version of the sailor from earlier towered over his sister. She thrusted her spear towards him, stabbing him in the finger, but he was so big that it stuck in his finger like a needle.

His sister screamed, her spear snapping as his giant hand closed around her. Lance screamed too, but nothing except bubbles escaped from his mouth.

The man cackled, his laugh loud enough to shake the sea. Lance shook with fury. He lunged forward, moving his tail as fast as he could, but it was to no avail. The soldier easily stood, sister in hand, and strode away. Lance watched with despair as the giant placed one large foot down, destroying his kingdom, his home. He watched as the last tower of the royal palace collapsed, ensuring the destruction of his family. A giant plume of sand rose and with a start, Lance woke up.

Suddenly wide awake, he decided that a bit of fresh air might be good. He shifted back into his human form, replacing his clothes and made his way out to the top deck. Keith wasn't in his room, but that probably wasn't entirely surprising considering Hunk said he barely ever slept.

The above deck was eerily quiet, nothing except the sound of waves playing quietly below.

Lance looked up at the sky and was once again struck by how beautiful it was. Light blue bled into a darker indigo, which was swallowed by a rich blackness. The entire spread was peppered with a million shining stars.

He yearned to touch the face of the sky, and though he knew that was impossible, he set out to get as close as he possibly could.

He scaled the mast, all the way to the crow’s nest, and when he stuck his head through the door, he was surprised to find that he wasn't alone.

“Hey,” he said quietly.

Keith jolted out of his thoughts. He had been staring at the sky, but now his gaze was fixed firmly on Lance. “Hello. It’s a bit late don't you think?”

Lance chuckled. “I could say the same to you, but Hunk’s already told me that you're some sort of magic man who never sleeps.”

Keith let a small smile grace his lips. “Some magic that would be. Everything would be done way more efficiently.”

Lance hummed, pulling himself up through door and sitting next to Keith. “I don't know, I think taking a break can be a good thing sometimes.”

Keith sighed. “I don't know how to take a break.”

“You should learn, it would be bad for our great captain to burn himself out,” Lance teased.

Inside of joking back, Keith remained silent for a moment. “I’m sorry I’m such a rubbish captain.”

“Woah man, I didn’t mean it like that,” Lance backpedaled. “You’re a great captain, the best one I’ve ever met.”

Keith eyed him and let out an exasperated laugh. “I’m the _only_ captain you’ve ever met.”

“The only one for me.” he replied.

Keith smiled sadly. “That’s just because you’ve never met Shiro. He’s an _amazing_ captain. He could control this ship way better than I could and she had way more members then. He wouldn’t have pulled that stunt like I did and endangered the whole crew.”

“Sure, but I know that you’re a good captain too.” Lance said.  
Keith laughed in disbelief. “How can you say that? I took you away from your home. And used you as bait, just because I was desperate and unwilling to listen to anyone else. That sounds like a pretty bad captain to me.”

Lance swayed, bumping Keith with his shoulder.

“It all worked out, right? Sure, you made some bad mistakes, but you’ve learned from them. And I know you were only trying to help me by taking me from my home. I miss it more than anything, but I understand. You can’t compare yourself to Shiro, you’re two different people, obviously you have different ways of being captain. You’re headstrong, which can be a flaw, but that doesn’t make you a bad captain. In fact, sometimes being headstrong and having good intuition makes you a great one.”

“Thanks, that means a lot, especially from you.” Keith looked up at the sky again. “I'm always thinking about Shiro, sometimes more than I think about the crew. It’s just that he’s been gone so long, who knows what those Galra fucks have done to him in that time.”

His eyebrows pinched and Lance could see the weeks of worry underneath his eyes.

“Don't worry, we’ll find him.”

“That's what I keep saying, but with every passing day and every failing plan I feel like we’re just getting farther away and I…” Keith broke off, his voice going quiet.

“You what?” Lance asked softly.

“I might not be around long enough to help him.” He whispered. “Shiro saved me. The least I could do is return the favor.”

“Is this about your curse?”

Keith nodded. “Every time I fight, my blade is destined to sap some of my vitality and strength away. Eventually, I’ll run out of strength.”

Lance’s eyes drifted to Keith. The captain avoided his gaze, his dull and heavy eyes staring forlornly at the stars.

Lance sighed heavily. “I’ve been thinking about that a lot. You’re a pirate. You fight all the time…”

Keith shrugged, finally making eye contact with him. “The life of a pirate was never meant to be a long one.”

Together, they sat in silence for a few minutes, letting that information sit heavy in the air around them. Lance swiveled towards Keith, making a sudden decision.

He crossed his legs, swallowing hard as Keith’s eyes were drawn towards his movement.

“What if there was a way I could break your curse?” He asked. “I tried to tell you this before, but there’s this thing that’s known among small circles of humans as the “Goddess’ Gift”.”

“I’ve never heard of it,” Keith said.

Lance rubbed the back of his head, tussling his own hair. “Well, among merfolk it’s known as the “Goddess’ Curse”, basically if a human captures a mer, the mer is entitled to grant the human one wish.”

Realization dawned over Keith’s face.

“So when you said-”

“Yes,” Lance agreed.

Keith sat up straight, leaning towards Lance so suddenly that Lance found himself leaning back a little.

“Can you bring Shiro back?” He asked eagerly.

Lance sighed, his heart sinking as Keith’s face fell.

“Sadly, no. I don't know Shiro’s location and I can’t teleport people. But I can break your curse, since you know the requirements of it.”

Keith’s sigh mirrored Lance’s. “Thanks, but no thanks.”

“What?” Lance asked incredulously. He had never heard of a human refusing an offer, especially for something as dire as this.

“We might need that power for something more important later. You can use for almost anything right? I don’t know what condition Shiro will be in, or the rest of the crew. They might need it, so we should wait.”

“Well yes, but-”

“I’m going to save Shiro and with whatever time I have left over, I’m going to hunt down that witch and kill her.” His dark eyes looked seriously at Lance. “Even if it’s the last thing I do.”

There was a brief lull in conversation as Lance mulled that over. Suddenly, Keith spoke up again.

“Hey, if you call it the Goddess’ Curse, shouldn’t it be breakable? I thought you said no curse was unbreakable.”

“It’s not, technically. The captor can choose to release the mer, thus dispelling the wish. It almost never happens though.” Lance explained.

Keith hummed, his eyes reflecting the stars. Lance felt like his feet had been pulled from under him, morphed back into a tail. He wished he could drown in the blues of his eyes, under the reflection of a thousand stars.

Keith turned back to him and suddenly their faces were inches apart. Lance hadn’t realized that he had been subconsciously leaning forwards.

He was so close that if he lifted his hand, he could easily trace the shape of Keith’s lips. The sky suddenly looked muted compared to the contrast of Keith’s dark eyes enhanced by the paleness of his skin. He lifted his eyes to find Keith also staring at his lips.

He found himself thinking about the day he kissed Keith, when the siren attacked. That had been quick and rushed, the moment tinted with his own confusion and danger. Surely it would be different now, and Lance found himself curious to find out.

Warning bells were going off in his head, everything he had ever learned about humans back home, but in that moment he didn’t care. Everything else he had learned about humans seemed to be wrong, at least in regards to Keith. He never reacted the way Lance thought he would. He pushed against the warnings, ignoring the noise inside his head.

Their lips touched, softer than before, and Lance savored the bittersweet taste. He flicked his tongue over Keith's teeth and Keith responded by pressing his lips even harder against Lance's. Keith cupped his face and Lance threaded a hand through his hair, pulling the long strands out of Keith’s ponytail. Lance ran his tongue over his own teeth, just to make sure they were normal human ones instead of his sharpened mer teeth before he invited Keith in with his tongue. For a minute, the two wrestled for control.

They separated, gasping for breath, and Lance could see that Keith’s eyes were heavily dilated.

“Wow…” Keith whispered.

Lance giggled a little, before he pulled the captain back to his lips. Keith pushed him back and he landed softly on the wooden planks of the crow’s nest. Keith began to pepper kisses along the nape of Lance’s neck and he couldn’t help the small intake of breath and noise that escaped his mouth. Keith rubbed his skin reassuringly.

Lance was okay with this. In fact, he could get used to this. The captain hadn’t been what he thought, and perhaps he was different than Keith had expected too. And that was okay. He stared up at the wide, open sky above him, the blackness bleeding into an array of other colors, the night sky displaying its beauty as the most beautiful boy continued to kiss him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave a comment and I'll love you forever, you are my sun, my stars, and namely, my motivation <3
> 
>  
> 
> or come chat on my tumblr: [celestial-caster](https://celestial-caster.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Please go like and reblog the art from [saltwater-paladin](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/saltwater-paladin)


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is a day late, my Sunday was consumed by prom shopping, so I didn't have time to edit. Not a fun time. :( Anyways, this chapter is 7k so hopefully that makes up for it! Let's start with some heavy fluff!
> 
> Happy reading everyone!<3

Keith woke up with the feeling of cold fingers trailing lines down his back. It took him a minute to remember who the fingers belonged to as his eyes fluttered open and his awareness came back to him. He rolled over to stare into the ocean blue eyes of the humanized mer in his bed.

“Hello,” he said softly.

“Hello,” Lance whispered back. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.”

Keith shook his head, which he was sure really helped with his bedhead. He trailed his own fingers down Lance’s cheek, revelling in the smoothness of his skin that was interrupted by a few scales that betrayed his otherworldliness.

If he wasn’t staring him in the eyes right now, he wouldn’t believe that they had actually kissed last night. Multiple times. A sappy smile grew over his face.

“What are you thinking about?” Lance asked.

“You,” Keith said, and then promptly turned red and hid his face in the pillow. Lance coaxed him out again and planted a kiss on his lips, which he tried to savor for as long as possible.

They had spent a long time making out with no one but the stars as their witness, before it got too cold to stay outside in the brisk wind that was drawing the water up towards the moon. At that time of night, it had been too dark to see Lance’s markings properly, but now Keith found his eyes drawn to them, abrupt but beautiful interruptions in his brown skin.

Keith lifted a hand and started to trace the markings along his face, his fingers slow and warm along the curves of Lance’s face.

“Do your markings have meanings?” He asked.

“Yeah,” Lance said softly. He picked up Keith fingers and dragged them along each individual marking. He started at the largest one, a triangle under each eye, with a small line out the side. Keith’s fingers rubbed over the line. “This one is a sign that you should always step out of your comfort zone. Relish in the things you love, but keep learning and loving more.”

Their fingers drifted upwards to just above the triangle, where two small dots sat just underneath each of his eyes. “The dots represent wisdom, luck, kindness, and strength, the makings of a good ruler.

Finally, he guided Keith’s hand back over the bridge of his nose, up to the center of his forehead. “The top dot, the larger one, represents my role as the prince. All members of the royal family have this. The smaller dot is my role as the _Ayuto_ , aid to the Goddess.”

“That’s beautiful,” Keith said, staring into Lance’s eyes. His hand trailed back down to cup Lance’s cheek and he leaned in for a kiss. Their lips met and they kissed again, but in a few seconds they had both started giggling and were unable to kiss without laughing.

When the giggling subsided, the two lay in silence for a few minutes, just enjoying one another’s company. Keith sighed, pushing his hair back.

“I should probably get up.”

“Mmhmmm, all those captain things to do,”

Keith rolled back into his pillow with a muffled moan. “Captain things.” He felt Lance put another pillow over his head, so he rolled back over, so that he was looking up at Lance from his pillowed cave.

“I want to find you a teacher, but I don’t really know how to go about doing that,” Keith admitted. “I can’t really just go up to anyone and be like, ‘hey, please train this merman’, you know?”

Lance laughed. “Yeah, that probably wouldn’t end well. But I might know someone.”

“Really?” Keith asked, raising his eyebrows behind the mop of bedhead.

Lance frowned. “Well, maybe. Obviously, the idea of merfolk living among humans is a sort of taboo idea, given what we learn about humans. But there was this rumor among the guppies that some mer was residing as a priest in someplace called Aquataine.”

Keith wrinkled his nose. “Aquataine? I’ve never heard of that. I’ll ask Coran though, he might know.”

Lance shrugged. “Could just be an urban legend among the guppies, who knows. Either way, that would require you to get out of bed to find out.”

“But I don’t wanna,”

Lance laughed and pushed him. With a yelp, Keith tumbled off the bed and onto the wooden floor.

“Fine, I’m up now.”

“Well, technically you’re down.”

*

About an hour later, the entire crew had woken up and was eating breakfast together. Keith and Lance sat in chairs next to each other and if anyone raised a brow to it, they didn’t say anything.

“Coran, do you know anything about a town called Aquataine?”

Coran twisted his mustache thoughtfully as he finished chewing. “Aquataine? I haven’t heard anyone talk about that town for ages. It’s a small coastal town to the…” He trailed off.

“West of here,” Allura supplied.

“Yes, thank you, princess.” Coran said.

“You know of it too?” Lance asked.

Allura nodded. “It’s outside the borders of Altea, so I’ve never been there personally, but it’s notorious for its church that specializes in healing. They say some true miracles happen there.”

Keith and Lance exchanged a look

“Why are you interested in that town?” Hunk asked.

“We’re going there to find Lance a teacher.” Keith announced.

*

That night, Lance was waiting for Keith in the Captain’s quarters. He sat on his bed while he waited, but he could feel his tiredness weighing down his eyelids. He awoke to Keith pulling a blanket over him.

“Hey,” He said softly. “I didn’t want to wake you, but you looked cold.”

Lance yawned, sitting up. “ ‘s okay, I didn’t mean to fall asleep. I was waiting for you.”

Keith raised his eyebrows, a small smirk playing on his face. “Oh? What for?”

He leaned forward to kiss him, but Lance pushed him away gently. “Not right now. I’m really worried about this teacher thing.”

Keith sat down next to him on the bed, pushing him over to make room. “Why?” He asked.

“I don’t know, what if there is no teacher? The rumor about the mer who became a human was like, a joke among the guppies in school. Maybe the healer thing is just a coincidence.”

Keith lifted a hand and traced one of the markings on his face. “It’s not. And if, by the smallest of chances, it is, then it’s no big deal.”

“No big deal? What if we’re wasting valuable time that we could be using to look for Shiro? What if I can’t get my powers under control? I mean, I didn’t even know I could do half of this until I blew up! Healing powers are obvious, and shapeshifting is natural for Nokken, but control over water? Holy Goddess, that’s wild, and I-"

“You’re rambling,” Keith said, clearly amused. “But it’s okay, that’s why we’re going to find a teacher. So you can learn how to manage all those powers. I know you’re talented enough to figure out how to manage all that. You’re the most amazing person I’ve ever met.”

Lance felt his face warm as pride bubbled in his chest. Even though Keith had relaxed causally onto the bed, his eyes were dark and serious as he looked at Lance. Lance leaned forward and met Keith’s lips. As their lips connected and he cradled the warmth of Keith’s face in his hands, he felt all his worries melt away.

*

About a week later, a cute little coastal town was coming into view. Coran had supplied Keith with a map that he had been storing who knows where. He seemed to have a map for everything.

Pidge, Hunk, and Lance hung over the railing as the ship was sailed into port. The houses were built up high away from the waves all around the base of a large hill. At the very top of the hill, a large white building with a tall steeple overlooked the town.

“I guess we know where we need to go,” Pidge said.

Lance swallowed. He had no idea what would be waiting for him in that church. Maybe the mer there wanted nothing to do with merfolk anymore. Maybe there was no mer there, just rumors. Anticipation and nerves swirled in the pit of his gut.

Keith brushed a hand across his arm. He turned around to face the captain, who was giving him the smallest of smiles.

“Stop overthinking it. Weren’t you the one boasting to me about how you were going to charm that guy who invaded our ship? I’m sure you can charm your way through any problem that comes up.”

“Oh? Does that mean I can charm you into coming with me?”

Keith held up his hands. “No charming necessary.”

As they made their way through town, something seemed very off. The buildings were dark and the streets were quiet. Unlike the other places, there were no children playing in the streets or merchants yelling to anyone who would pass by. A loud bell chimed twice, but that was it. Everything was quiet. There had been a few fisherman in the port, but they had withdrawn themselves with a glare as soon as they saw the crew.

“Maybe they just don’t like pirates here. It is a coastal town after all.” Pidge said.

“Maybe,” Keith replied, sounding unconvinced.

Lance had the nagging feeling that they were being watched. Perhaps the group sensed it too, because they stuck close together as they walked.

Eventually, they were making their way up the trodden dirt path that led to the church. Now that they were closer, Lance could see all the intricate details. It’s white pillars had images of waves carved into them, and a large fountain sat outside the blue church doors.

Lance gasped when he saw the centerpiece of the fountain.

“The Goddess,” he murmured.

“That’s her?” Hunk asked as they all stepped closer to take a look.

There was no denying it. Even though the statue was modeled in white stone, Lance could perfectly match the facial features on the statue to the Goddess’ face in his dream. Her tail dropped over the edge of the fountain lazily and in her hands, a snake dangled. Surrounding her were two horses, forming out of the stone waves, formed by her immense powers.

“Wow,” Keith gaped.

“What do you want here?” An unfamiliar voice asked, shaking them all from their reverie.

Lance twirled around to see an older woman standing behind them with a staff. Beads hung from her staff, shifting to the thousands of colors of the ocean in the sunlight.

“We’re seeking a teacher for him,” Keith said, gesturing to Lance.

The woman appraised him, frowning deeply as she took in his facial markings. “You must prove yourself to the Goddess by making a blood sacrifice to the fountain, young mer.”

Keith and Lance exchanged looks but after a moment, Lance nodded. Failing to hide his scowl, Keith pulled out his dagger and passed it to Lance. He pressed the blade into his palm until it bit into his flesh and then he held his palm over the fountain until a single red drop splashed into the water. The red color was quickly swallowed by the rest of the clean water. Lance looked at his palm, but the cut had already healed over, as the powers of a mer tended to do.

“That will not suffice.” The woman said.

“What?” Keith started glaring at the woman openly now.

“You’re trying to prove your dedication to a female goddess, but there needs to be a sense of familiarity-”

“Familiarity? He talks to the Goddess in his dreams all the time-” Keith spat.

Lance laid a hand on his shoulder as the woman carried on.

“You will need to also sacrifice the blood of a woman.”

The group looked at each other as the news sunk in.

Hunk’s shoulders sagged. “What an awful day for Allura to stay behind to watch the ship.”

“We don't have a woman with us right now,” Keith started. “Please accept my blood instead-” The woman had already started to turn back towards the church.

“No wait!” Pidge cried. “I'll sacrifice my blood!”

Everything was deathly quiet as the woman turned around again, a glint in her eyes.

“You’re a… girl?” Lance asked, struggling to comprehend the short person in front of him.

Pidge sighed, shoulders slumping. “I’ve been meaning to tell you guys, but I didn't know how. But yes, I'm a girl.”

“Huh. That’s cool, man. Uh… woman.” Hunk corrected.

Keith stepped up, laying a hand on Pidge’s shoulders. She peered up at him through her oversized lenses. “No matter what, you’re always a valuable member of my crew. I’m glad to have you aboard.”

“What?” Lance spluttered. “Why did you hide that?”

“I needed a job, and I didn't think the crew on the ports back home would hire me as a girl. Then Keith took over and _The Voltron_ became a pirate ship, and everybody just assumed, so I just went with it.”

Pidge took the knife from Lance and slit her own hand, the same way Lance had moments before. A drop of her blood fell into the fountain and suddenly the fountain was glowing a luminescent blue.

The woman smiled at them for the first time. She placed a hand on Pidge’s shoulder.

“For the sacrifice of your secrets, the Goddess will reward you.” The woman said. She then turned to Lance. “You have proven your dedication, young mer. And I hope you can see now how much your companions care about you. Now I will guide you in managing your powers.”

She closed her eyes, and after a moment her ears stretched and several markings appeared on her face, similar to the ones on Lance’s.

“You’re the mermaid I’ve heard about!” Lance exclaimed.

“Yes, dear guppy. I’ve heard much about you from the Goddess. She warned me of your arrival, but said that perhaps a small test was in order. I am known simply as the Priestess now.”

“We’ll go back to the ship while you train.” Keith said. “Can you make your way back?”

Lance nodded. “Yeah, I’ll see you in a few hours.”

The rest of the crew began to say their goodbyes and walk away, but Keith lingered. He pulled Lance closer by his wrist. “Please be careful and stay safe,” he whispered.

“You too.” Lance murmured. They shared an intense moment of silence before Keith released his arm and followed the rest of the crew.

The Priestess was waiting for Lance, so with a single glance back, he followed her into the church.

Inside, the ceiling towered high, thick beams of wood supporting the structure. Another fountain, smaller than the one they had just seen, was located at the front of the church, and the water trickled quietly from a chalice in the Goddess’ hands. But the part that caught Lance’s attention was the windows. Red, blue, and green stained glass windows depicted pictures of the Goddess.

Lance walked down the aisle as he looked at every window. The first one showed the Goddess learning to use her powers, and then there was a pane featuring the Goddess, plants turning green and animals thriving around her as her blue waters helped them all. She was famous to the mer as the best healer, the original healer.

Then, the next pane turned red as humans began to invade and destroy anything in their path. The Goddess grew angry and she sought to get her revenge against the insolent humans. She went to one of the coves where she regularly visited the plants and animals under her care, but amidst the tranquility of the green glass where all the plants grew, sat a figure robed in red. As Lance continued to look at the windows, he got increasingly confused. The woman watched him in silence, her hands folded around her staff.

“I don't understand,” he said, his brow furrowed.

The next several panes of glass showed the Goddess falling in love with this red robed figure, a human woman. They were happy images, bursting with love and color. The blue lips of the Goddess bled into the red ones of the human. Suddenly, the human fell to the ground, red spilling from underneath the red cloak. The Goddess gathered her in her arms, but it was too late and there was nothing her waters could do to help the human. Everything was stained red, until it wasn’t. Grief poured out from the Goddess, inky blackness that covered the Windows, enshrouding the back of the church in darkness. No one was spared from her sorrow, not the humans, nor the plants and animals she cared for, nor herself. The last window pane was all black, except for the tiniest glimpse of the Goddess being swallowed by her grief, a drop of blue in the darkness, the last bit of her heart.

“That’s not how it happened,” Lance said.

The Priestess chuckled. “Or so you think, guppy. But I’ve spoken with the Goddess and know this to be the truth.”

Lance stared at the stained glass in amazement. “They’ve always told us that the Goddess was killed by humans who wanted to colonize the cove that she was healing. The red woman shouldn’t exist.”

“I’ve dedicated my life to trying to bridge the gap between the mer and humans, just like the Goddess. It’s rare that I see a mer in my chapel though, so very few know the truth.”

“What do you mean, “just like the Goddess”?” Lance asked.

The woman raised her eyebrows a him. “Why, the Goddess’ Gift, of course. After her love’s untimely death, the Goddess created her Gift in the hopes that other mer would get to experience the same love that she had and if the need ever arose, would be able to help their loved one. However, as I’m sure you know, it hasn't always worked out so favorably, since anyone who captures a mer gets to use it, not just anyone who captures a mer’s heart.”

Lance nodded. “The Goddess’ Curse.”

“In some cases, indeed.” The Priestess smile wryly. “In your case, perhaps not.”

Lance blushed, red coloring his cheeks all the way down to his neck.

“Nevertheless, perhaps we should get on with some actual training. Let’s begin,” the Priestess said, her eyes glinting in the tinted light of the windows.

*

Aboard the _Red Lion_ , Keith was anxiously biting at his fingers while the rest of the crew tried to find some way to pass the time. Hunk, Pidge, and Coran had gone to explore the town, leaving only Keith and Allura aboard.

“You know he’ll do fine,” Allura said, coming up behind him and resting a hand on Keith’s shoulder.

Keith hummed an agreement, still chewing on his fingers.

“Unless there’s something else?” She asked, quirking an eyebrow.

He sighed. “I want Lance to learn from the mentor but I can’t help but worry we’re burning time we already didn't have.”

Allura placed her hands on the railing. “I worry about Shiro too, but I have to trust that we’re going to find him.”

“But what if we’re too late?”

Allura’s face pinched, like she was in pain.

“That’s not going to happen. Shiro can take care of himself.”

Keith studied her. Her hair was down today, tied back with two braids encircling her head, and her eyes stared ahead, bold and beautiful, but her hands were clamped around the railing, almost as white as her hair.

“Princess, why are you here?”

Allura drew her eyes from the sea, back to his face. She didn't need to say anything, because Keith could see it all in her eyes. The rings of her irises contained desperation, fear, and hope, but most of all they contained love.

“Ah.” He said. “How long?”

Allura blushed, quickly averting her gaze. “Since well before the two of you became brothers, I assure you. It’s the only reason my father let me go on this mission rather than letting someone else look for the captain of the royal guard.”

“Your father didn't have a problem with you being in love with someone who wasn't a prince?”

Allura shook her head, a small smile upturning her lips. “I’ll become queen in Altea after my parents no matter what. Marriage does not matter for status, so in Altea we marry for love. Is it not that way where you come from?”

Keith laughed bitterly. “Marrying for love? Practically unheard of where I come from. Sometimes I wonder if they even know of such a word.”

“Where are you from?” She asked.

“‘Nowhere I want to return to.” He replied.

*

The Priestess had led Lance to the edge of the fountain inside the church. They were kneeled by the edge, peering into the blue tiled pool.

“What do you see in your reflection?”

Lance peered into the water and was met with a familiar face. “Uh, is that a trick question? Myself?”

The Priestess shook her head. “That’s one form of your being, but as a Nokken you have the ability to embrace many forms. You must learn to embrace them all if you want to grow stronger.”

“How do I do that?” Lance asked.

“You must learn to accept all the skills those forms have to teach you. Each form has special skills that will benefit you greatly. But I cannot teach you them. You must learn to explore your own identity.”

Lance made a face. “Then what can you teach me?”

She laughed, leaning her staff against the side of the fountain. “So eager, young one. I assure you that I will teach you how to manage your powers. I assume something drove you to come find me.”

Lance looked into the waters of the fountain again. “I lost control. I’ve worked so hard to develop my powers over the years, just to prove everyone who said I didn’t have powers wrong. But suddenly they’ve exploded and I can’t control it… I don’t want to hurt the people close to me.”

She looked amused. “Oh? Are the pirates close to you?”

Lance scoffed. “As pathetic as it is, I guess so.”

“The Goddess thought that there was a chance that you still believed yourself to be in a bad position among the crew, but I assure you that not all humans have ill intentions.”

Lance blushed. “Um, no, we’ve gotten closer, but I’m rather glad that the Goddess didn’t know about it.”

The Priestess chuckled. “I understand that feeling, young one. The Goddess likes to keep a close eye on things, but she’s not omniscient.”

“I really need to learn how to control my powers. When I lost control, I lost control, big time.”

“I understand. And that’s why you’re here.” She waved her hand and water pulled itself out of the fountain. She closed her fist and when she opened it again, the water was perfectly rounded and as smooth as a stone. It looked almost solid, unmoving and tangible in her hands

“Focus on shaping the water. Hold it in your hands and contain it,” the Priestess instructed.

Lance closed his eyes, trying to focus on the feeling of the water. It still felt wet and dripped through the cracks in his fingers. No matter how hard he tried, it kept slipping away from him.

“Try to calm your emotions,” the Priestess advised. “Anger and frustration never go hand in hand with control.”

He channeled all of his concentration, making it bubble up through his frustration and channel down his hands until it put the water into a bubble, contained and flexible. He peered through his eyelashes, and then his eyes flew open. In his hand, was a puddle of water, shaped a little strangely, but solid.

“I did it!” He cried.

The Priestess smiled at him, her markings stretching upwards with the corners of her lips. “Indeed, young mer, but you still have much more to learn. Now, with your voice, puncture the water.”

“What?”

“Shaping the water is one way of bending the will of others. Using your voice is another. If you want to truly understand and manage your powers, then you’ll need to learn how to use both to your advantage."

Lance nodded. “Break!” He commanded.

The puddle exploded, and Lance leaned back with a yelp. The water fell back into the fountain.

The woman nodded approvingly. “I can see that you’re a quick learner.”

The day passed quickly with the Priestess showing Lance several new techniques, from hand motions to voice inflections. She enforced the idea that he had to put as much power and intention as possible in order to get the strongest power, but if he wanted to control he, he needed to learn to channel it. The power was in his veins, the natural channels of his body, so if he could figure out how to calm the power into such a directed manner, it wouldn’t manifest the way it had when he lost his temper.

After a few hours, Lance had managed to pull the water from the fountain and form it into various shapes at the Priestess’ instruction and then returned it to the fountain. She made him repeat the task with both his hands and his voice, just in case one was unable to do what he intended.

“What about healing?” He asked.

“Healing is helping from the soul. The stronger your intention, the better the heal, although obviously the smaller the wound, the easier it is to heal. Don’t forget that the Goddess is also quite the healer. If you need assistance, I’m sure she would be happy to help you.”

“That’s true,” Lance said. “It’s been awhile since I’ve done anything as the Goddess’ _Ayuto_. I should thank her more.”

The Priestess smiled. “Oh, I think she knows, young mer. She’s quite fond of you. With that, I’ve taught you everything I promised the Goddess I would teach you. You should be able to control your powers now as long as you remember to channel your power into a direction and work on your intention.”

“Thank you for your guidance.”

The Priestess pulled him into a hug.

“The Goddess will be proud to hear of your improvement. Take care of yourself, young guppy.”

As Lance walked back through the town, everything was just as still and quiet as it had been before. But something's had definitely changed. Laundry had been pulled in from the line and Lance swore that he saw some shutters crack open so that the faceless inhabitants of the town could take a peek at him.

He could just see the ocean from where he was, although the _Red Lion_ was still out of sight from her spot in port. Another large ship with white sails bobbed on the horizon of the water.

Lance almost thought nothing of it, until he realized that the ship was sailing towards the harbor. As he stared at it a moment more, he realized it had a similar look to the ship that Ezor had been on. He broke out into a run, flying down the path to the port. He was so focused on looking at the ship that he almost slammed into Keith, who was running towards him.

“I was just coming to get you,” Keith said. “We need to leave, like _now_.”

“Well, don’t just stand there, Capt’n Mullet. We’re wasting time!” Lance said, continuing down the path to the ship.

“Did you get your training?” Keith asked as they ran.

Lance beamed at him. “Yep! You’re looking at the cooler, more controlled Lance!”

Coming from the opposite direction at a run, were Hunk, Pidge, and Coran. Lance paused a moment to let them catch up, but as soon as they reached him, Pidge was pulling him after her by his arm.

“The town ratted us out to the Galra.” She said, panting for breath as she ran. “The entire market is under Galra control. No wonder nobody wants to talk to us, we’re the most wanted pirate ship to them.”

“What do you mean the market is under Galra control?” Lance asked, legs aching with the strain of transformation on top of running.

“We went there looking for a part for a project Pidge and I have been working on,” Hunk explained to Lance. “Coran thought he might know something that worked better. But when we got there, none of the merchants seemed very eager to talk to us.”

“That bell that they rung earlier was probably to warn the townspeople of our arrival.” Coran noted.

The port was in sight. The fisherman had all abandoned their work, and the tack shop looked shabby and dark. The scent of fish lingered in the air, but it was the only thing to suggest that anyone had been working there until a line of soldiers materialized.

“Shit!” Keith cursed, pulling out his sword. The others also took out their weapons. Lance eyed the port. It seemed close enough. He didn’t expect to test his powers so soon, but it looked like there was no time like the present.

The soldiers rushed at them. Unlike the other soldiers Lance had seen, these weren’t sailors. They carried larger swords, made for the availability of space on land and they wore different uniforms, although they were still very clearly Galran.

“Hunk, watch your left side!” Keith called as he cut one man down.

Hunk swung left and fired his musketoon. “Thanks!” He called. He followed Pidge and took out soldiers from a distance while Pidge cut down anyone who came close. They easily cleared a path from themselves out of soldiers.

Coran pulled out two multi barreled pistols that Lance had literally never seen in his life. The frames of both pistols had silver with engravings on them, just as beautifully done as the engravings on Allura’s sword. Coran evened out the weapon and took aim, his hands steady.

Meanwhile, Keith was struggling through his part of the horde. Always a fury in battle, Keith was hacking and slashing at any man who dared to fight him. The sounds of their swords clashing rang throughout the port. Lance could see the aura of Keith’s curse pulse around him, clenching around his heart and the energy visibly drained from him. He was panting hard, his sword striking heavily. The men around him seemed to sense his lack of energy as well, because more men began to swarm around him.

“Keith!” Lance cried, trying to fight his own way through. He focused on everything he had learned at the church atop the hill. He focused on summoning water from the sea, mere dozens of feet away.

The water rose from the sea and followed the path of his hand until it formed a long whip like shape. There was too much water to contain in his cupped hands, but if he stretched his hand, the water also stretched.

He cut through the crowd, slashing anyone in length of his whip as he fought his way to Keith. Before he could make it, the whole fight seemed to freeze. The Galran men didn’t lower their weapons, but they stopped advancing. Keith also stopped trying to cut his way to the ship and as Lance looked, it wasn’t hard to see what they were all staring at.

A young woman was standing amidst the crowd, dressed in dark Galra armor. A gun was strapped to her waist and despite her calmness Lance had a feeling she was prepared to shoot at a moments notice if need be. Behind her another woman, also dressed in Galra armor but with her face covered by a hood, stood quietly. A cat wound itself around her legs before jumping up to her shoulder. They were clearly higher rank than the other men, based on their armor and stance, like generals of the squadron.

“Stand down, men,” the first woman commanded. The men lowered their weapons instantly.

“Acxa,” Keith said weakly. “Narti.”

“Keith.” Acxa replied. “It’s been a while. Ezor told me that she ran into you and your friends a few weeks ago.”

Keith instinctively looked at Lance. He tried to avert his gaze, but he had already drawn the general’s attention.

In a flash, the hooded Galra, Narti, Lance assumed, was at his side. She captured Lance’s face in her long fingers and examined him. He fought the urge to flinch as her fingertips dragged down his face. As he got a closer view at the general, he was startled to realize she was blind. Her cat blinked lazily at him from her shoulders.

She showed his face to Acxa who hummed thoughtfully.

“So you’re the mer boy that Ezor talked so much about. I can see why she liked you.”

“Why are you here?” Keith cut in harshly.

“We have ears and eyes all over the sea Keith. You know that better than anyone. It was only natural that you would come here after that little stunt you and your little fish pulled aboard that Galran slave ship.” Acxa shrugged. “Helpfully, the Galran Empire already has control of trade in this little town.”

Pidge, Hunk, and Coran were watching the exchange, confusion clear on their faces. Pidge and Hunk still had their weapons drawn and Lance could tell by the way Pidge’s fist was clenched that she was itching to use it.

A flash of movement drew Lance’s attention back to where the generals and Keith were. Or rather, where Keith had been. He was charging at the women, his sword drawn, face full of fury.

Acxa dodged as he swung at her. “I’m not here to fight you,” she said.

Clearly, Narti was though, as she dashed between Acxa and Keith. Lance was curious as to how she was going to fight. The cat had jumped off her shoulder and was watching the fight from a distance. Narti grabbed Keith’s sword and forced his wrist backwards until he dropped his sword. The two got tangled in hand-to-hand combat, pulling punches and dodging blows.

“Oh really? Then what are you here for?”

“Lotor says it’s time for you to come home.”

Keith faltered and Narti used to opportunity to punch him in the gut several times. Keith lurched backwards, coughing, before he regained his stance. He managed to get a few hits in on Narti as well, but pretty soon the two of them were grappling for control. Keith’s exhaustion was seeping through and Narti was using it to her advantage.

“The _Red Lion_ is my home. I’m not going back with you and I’m especially not going back for _him_.” Keith snarled.

Acxa sighed, thrumming her fingers on the holster of her gun. “Look, I know you don’t like him, and you’ve helped me in the past so I’m doing you this solid and not dragging you back, but Lotor’s not going to take no for an answer. He’s especially interested in the mermaid you’ve got and well, you know him.”

Narti aimed a punch at his face and Keith ducked, catching her fist with his own hands in the process.

“Yeah, he’s a spoiled child, I get it.”

“Watch it,” Acxa warned. “I’m still his head general.”

“Yeah, well thanks for the heads up, but I’m not interested. I’ve got my own shit going on without taking on the Galran Empire’s too.” He sounded a bit breathless as he continued to dodge Narti’s punches.

Keith put all his remaining strength into it, twisting Narti’s elbow harshly and kicking her feet out from under her. She toppled to the ground and he followed, holding her down.

“Go!” He gasped. Instantly, his crew was in motion, shooting and slashing at anyone who stepped in their way. They fought their way to the _Red Lion_ furiously. Acxa watched without intervening. Lance hung back and used his water whip to defend Keith so that Keith could avoid using his sword.

The _Red Lion_ came into sight, and the group could see Allura hovering around the rails anxiously. Allura waved frantically when he saw them and they all began to run faster. They raced up the ramp, working together to pull it up.

Their legs screamed in pain, but there was no time for rest. They set into motion, pulling up the ramp and the anchor, fixing the sails, and steering the boat out of the harbor.

“They’re going to try and cut us off!” Allura yelled, gesturing to the Galran ship circling the bay.

“Man the cannons and fire!” Keith replied, bracing himself on the ship’s wheel.

Hunk, Allura, Pidge, and Lance raced to put gunpowder inside the barrel of the canons. Hunk had spent some time teaching Lance how to do it, and he was glad he knew enough now to help. The four of them lit the fuse and simultaneously the cannons fired. The other ship started to give them a bit of distance to avoid the oncoming shots.

A few seconds later, they fired shots of retaliation.

“Oncoming starboard!” Pidge yelled.

Keith grit his teeth, giving the wheel a generous spin. The _Red Lion_ careened to the side, narrowly missing the cannonball that plunged into the water.

“We-” Keith’s voice came out hoarse, so he had to start again. “We have to shake them!”

“I can help!” Lance cried. He climbed the mast and stood in the crow’s nest. From where he stood, he could see everything, the entire deck, the ship, and the sea. The sky was so close he felt like he could reach out and touch it.

He lifted his hands, throwing them out towards the sea. Mustering all of his will, he summoned the water and tried to make it bend to his will. Shaping the sea was different than shaping the water in the fountain. Even on a calm day like today, the ocean was wild and untameable. It was a powerful force with a mind of its own.

“Please, bend,” Lance said, channeling as much intention into his words as he could. “Please,”

By some miracle, the water started to rise, creating a sheet between the two ships. The wave grew so tall that Lance could no longer see the other ship. Down below, the crew of the _Red Lion_ was staring at the wave in awe.

“That’s so cool!” Hunk cried, pumping his fists.

Keith looked up at the crow’s nest and met eyes with Lance. He was still leaving heavily on the steering wheel, clearly exhausted with the curse sapping at his strength, but he gave Lance the most genuine smile he had ever been blessed with.

The wave was forceful, but it swept up the hull of the _Red Lion_ and pushed her out of the bay. The _Red Lion_ rode the wave until there was enough distance between her and the Galra ship. The wave deposited them roughly back into the sea and then crashed down completely, seeping back into the ocean.

As Lance crawled back down from the crow’s nest, the crew cheered. As soon as his bare feet met the wooden planks of the _Red Lion_ , Hunk swept him up in a crushing hug.

“You did it! I’m so proud of you!”

Lance made a face as Hunk squeezed him to tightly, but he laughed, patting Hunk on the back. “Thanks, buddy.”

Hunk released him and he stumbled over to Keith.

“I told you that you…”

Lance grinned. “I guess you did.”

Pidge stormed over to them, thrusting a finger to Keith’s chest.

“You have a lot to explain! This is twice that an important Galran military figure has known your name! What the hell is going on?”

Keith went to stand up straight, unlatching his arms from where they were wrapped around the steering wheel. He stumbled, grasping back onto the wheel and making the ship turn sharply.

“Woah!” Lance said, straightening out the wheel and gathering Keith in his arms.

Pidge’s anger seemed to dissipate into concern immediately. “Are you okay?”

Keith furrowed his brow and put a hand to his chest, pushing him away. “I’m fine. Just tired.”

The commotion had drawn the rest of the crew’s attention and they were all looking worriedly at Keith.

“You look rather pale,” Allura said. “Are you getting sick?”

“I can make a remedy for the common cold if you need,” Coran offered.

“I’m fine,” Keith insisted. “I’m not sick.”

Lance kept his mouth shut, but his own face was pinched with concern. They couldn’t keep this a secret anymore. Keith looked terrible.

“I’m just going to go lie down for a few-” Keith never got the chance to finish his sentence before he hit the ground. His legs buckled under him, his hands too limp to catch himself.

“Keith!” The crew rushed forward, but Lance held out his arms, blocking them.

“No, wait!”

He kneeled down, and felt for Keith’s pulse. It was still going steady, perhaps too strongly, as Keith’s breathing was rather heavy. His eyes were squeezed shut and he clutched at his own shirt.

“Lance, what is going on? You can’t keep this from us, something is seriously wrong!” Pidge demanded.

Lance looked at all the faces surrounding him frantically. He wanted to tell them, he wanted to tell them so badly, but he had promised Keith that he wouldn’t.

He felt a clammy hand on his wrist.

“It’s okay,” Keith whispered. “You can tell them.”

Lance slumped forwards, his head hanging. He pursed his lips before looking back up at the crew.

“Someone help me carry him to bed.”

Silently, Hunk and Lance picked Keith up and made their way down to the Captain’s quarters. They placed him on the sheets and Lance wet a cloth and put it to Keith’s forehead, just like Keith had done for him.

The rest of the crew filed in after them, waiting silently for Lance to organize himself. He left the cloth on Keith’s forehead and sighed.

“Lance, now it’s time to tell us what’s going on,” Allura said. Her arms were crossed over her chest, but her face was calm and her voice even and patient. Lance fidgeted with the sheets on Keith’s bed for a minute.

“Keith was cursed. Anytime he fights, his energy depletes.”

The looks of concern changed to horror.

“But, that’s all he does!” Hunk said

Pidge looked down at Keith. “I made him teach me how to fight with a sword.”

Lance stood up sharply and put a hand on her shoulder. “Hey, that’s not your fault. He knew the consequence and he did it anyway. He did it because he wanted to.”

“When was he cursed?” Allura asked, looking at his limp body.

“I don’t know, before I met him. Around the time Shiro saved him.”

“How can we break it?” Coran asked.

Lance shook his head. “According to Keith, we can’t. I don’t know what the condition is, but whatever it is, he won’t do it.”

“What will happen if he doesn’t break it?” Hunk asked.

Lance looked at the ground, wishing it would swallow him up and dump him back into the sea. “The curse will continue to sap away his strength until he dies.”

The room was silent as they all studied the face of their captain.

“I can try to make a potion to regenerate some of his energy,” Coran said, clearly trying to keep some optimism is his voice.

“I’m going to train more so that he doesn’t have to fight as much.” Pidge said. “Hunk, are you coming?”

Hunk nodded and the three of them exited the room.

“Is there anything I can get either of you?” Allura asked.

Lance shook his head again. “No, he should be okay after he gets some sleep.

“And you?” Allura asked, studying his face.

He shrugged. “I’m fine. It’s just really frustrating because I could help him, but he won’t let me.”

Allura smiled weakly. “Yeah, that sounds like him.” She laid a hand on his shoulder. “We’ll figure something out. We always do.”

Lance nodded mutely as she pulled away and left the room.

“Call me if you need anything,” she said.

Lance turned back to Keith’s bedside where the captain was dead to the world, snoring softly. Lance watched the rise and fall of his chest for a while before he moved into the bathroom connected to the bedroom and slunk into the tub, his tail free for the first time all day. Despite the relief of stretching his tail, his thoughts remained on Keith. He left the door open so he could watch the captain quietly sleep the night away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> God, so much happened in one chapter, I don't know how to feel about any of it. Maybe now all our secrets are on the table????
> 
> Feelings? Thoughts? Concerns? Drop me a comment!
> 
> or come chat at my tumblr:[celestial-caster](https://celestial-caster.tumblr.com/)
> 
> OR please go reblog the lovely art from [saltwater-paladin](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/saltwater-paladin)


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith confronts _some_ of his problems and Lance calls on some friends for help

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to the descent into the climax! (Don't worry, we still have a little while until the end. I don't know how many chapters exactly, but at least 5 or 6 more!)
> 
> ALSO! This lovely person drew some amazingly cute fanart and I got so excited I cried. Go give them some love on tumblr! [anawkwardavocadoart](https://anawkwardavocadoart.tumblr.com/image/170920402899)
> 
> If you wanted to draw some fanart, I would love you forever (not like I don't already), but make sure you @ my tumblr or tag it "Spoondrift" so I can find it and love it!

Lance soaked in the sun as he lounged on the deck. He was spread out like a starfish, his limbs stretched as far as he could reach. The sun was high in the sky, at the peak of the day, the warmest it had been in a while, but Lance found that he couldn’t enjoy it.

Normally he would shift into his mer form to bask in the feeling of warmth on his scales, to stretch the joints that he so rarely got to use in his full potential anymore, but not today. Today, he kept his arms and legs at the ready in case he needed to move fast.

He had spent most of the night quietly splashing in the tub to ease the ache in his tail from his transformation and clean his body. Keith had slept quietly for a few hours, but then at midnight had started tossing and turning, so much so that his bedsheets were thrown to the floor.

Startling awake without remembering when he had ever fallen asleep, Lance had shifted quickly and clambered out of the tub to Keith’s bedside. He could see the pulsing red aura of the curse clenching and tightening around his body as Keith winced in pain. Lance had tried to rouse him from his pained sleep, but Keith just opened his bleary eyes for a few minutes and cried out for Shiro in a fevered dream. It was almost more painful for Lance to watch.

Eventually, Keith’s cries had died off and he’d returned to a peaceful sleep, but Lance couldn’t say the same for himself. He could still see the curse, slowly choking the boy in his bed. Sleep was the only time that Keith looked truly vulnerable, with his scowl evened out and the creases of worry in his face smooth.

In the morning, when Coran and Hunk had come in to check on Keith and see if he was awake, they had found Lance slumped on the floor next to Keith’s bed. Hunk had escorted him out of the captain’s quarters and into the galley, where he had been forced to eat breakfast and banned from returning to the captain’s quarters.

Keith stumbled onto the deck from the bowels of the ship.

Lance jumped to his feet. He had spent the day aiding the crew in whatever tasks they needed help with, but understandably his mind had been other places.

The captain looked bedraggled, his hair stuck up at strange angles, his clothes rumpled and dark circles drawn under his eyes. Nevertheless, he wasn’t as pale or sweaty as he had been the day before and despite his tiredness, looked much healthier than he had previously.

“How do you feel? Do you still have a fever? Do you need some water?”

Keith held a hand, a small smile twitching on his lips.

“I’m fine. Really.”

Lance was about to say something else, but suddenly the rest of the crew noticed Keith’s appearance and flocked him.

“How are you feeling?” Allura asked.

“Do you want something to eat?” Hunk questioned. Pidge hovered behind him quietly.

“I’m fine, although I could do with some food.” His stomach rumbled in support of that statement.

“I made some stew that should be easy to eat,” Hunk said, nudging Keith back the way he had come, towards the galley. The rest of the crew, including Lance, shadowed them down the hall.

Keith sat on a stool and Hunk got him a bowl of stew, testing the temperature before handing it to him. Keith made a face, rolling his eyes.

“Sorry,” Hunk said. “I kept it warm but I don’t know if it’ll be too warm for your senses right now.”

Keith put a spoonful in his mouth. “It’s fine. Your cooking is great as always.”

“Are you sure you should be walking around right now?” Allura fretted. “Maybe we should have Coran take a look at you first.”

“This is why I didn't tell any of you. I don’t want people walking on eggshells around me.”

“You completely passed out yesterday!” Pidge snapped, finally breaking her silence. “We thought there was something seriously wrong with you, and sure enough, we find out that you’ve been hiding this _curse_ from us!”

Keith’s brow furrowed, his lips puckered like he was about to snap something back, but Lance placed a hand on Keith’s arm and the captain seemed to immediately defuse.

“We were just really worried about you. Saving Shiro is important, but we don’t want you to die either.”

Keith sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I know… I’m sorry I worried you all. But I need to do this. No matter the cost.”

“You can’t help Shiro if you’re gone,” Lance said quietly.

“I know.” Keith said again. “But it’s been weeks and I’m not any closer to helping him. I don’t know what to do.”

The entire crew was silent for a moment as they tried to think.

“I think I know of something that might help.” Lance said. Keith looked up at him.

“But you said that you couldn’t-”

“This isn’t about the Goddess’ Curse.” Lance said.

“Oh, more curses,” Pidge grumbled. “Does everyone have a curse?”

“Maybe so.” Keith mused. “What are you talking about, Lance?”

Lance shook his head. “You need to tell them about your curse first.”

Keith scowled at him, but he remained resolute. The crew couldn’t have secrets anymore.

“Lance already told you all this, but I was cursed by a witch so that anytime I fight, it drains my energy. One day, all my energy will be drained and I’ll die. Obviously, with any curse, there’s a condition to break it, but I can’t accept mine, so end of story. There, nothing you didn’t already know.” Keith said, still scowling at Lance.

“Did you know the witch?” Allura asked.

Keith’s scowl deepened, if that was even possible. “Yes, but that doesn’t really matter either. I’m going to kill her, right after I save Shiro.”

The room was silent for a moment as they processed that information.

“Do you think you’ll be able to kill her?” Pidge asked finally.

“She’s powerful, but I’ll find a way to take her.” Keith replied.

“I wasn’t really talking about physical strength.”

“I knew her, but we were never close. She’s wanted me dead for a long time.”

Lance nodded at Keith, satisfied with that answer. He couldn’t make Keith talk about whatever past he was hiding, he wouldn’t even talk to Lance about that, but Keith needed to be the one to explain some of his secrets to the crew, or else there would always be a divide between them.

“As for the Goddess’ Curse,” Lance said, drawing the crew’s attention from Keith, “it’s actually called the Goddess’ Gift. It’s bestowed upon every mer with the hopes that they’ll interact with the human world and grant a gift to aid someone that they love. However, over the course of history, it has been forcibly taken from mer by their cruel captors and used for unjust reasons, and therefore has earned itself the name of ‘Goddess’ Curse’ among mer.”

Hunk wrinkled his nose. “So do you just have like, unlimited wishes for humans?”

That question would have irritated Lance if it had come from anyone besides Hunk, who he knew wasn’t motivated by greed.

“No, a mer only has one wish, for the person who captures them, whether in heart or body.”

“What happens if like, Keith captured you and then I steal you from him?” Pidge asked. “Does each captor get a wish?”

Lance paused. He had never heard any stories of that happening. “I don’t actually know. Maybe, or maybe the wish is transferable, so if Keith hadn’t used it before you captured me, you would get it.”

“That’s fascinating,” Allura said. “You should tell Coran about all that, he would love to know more. He might even have some theories for that question. I think he spent a year in his youth studying whatever he could find on mer.”

Lance nodded. Over the course of the journey, he had come to realize that Coran was actually really easily excitable and curious about the workings of everything around him. He had an immense amount of knowledge about medicine, which Lance still had conflicted feelings about, but also lots of knowledge about any other topic under the sun.

Sometimes, he would let Lance watch as he put together herbs they bought at ports into medicines while he told him stories of his home country, Altea, or stories of his and Allura’s youth.

Okay, so what’s your plan?” Keith asked.

Lance drummed his fingers on his arm. If he was being honest, there was no plan. More of a hope.

“Well, I have some friends and they might be able to help us.”

“Help us how?” Pidge asked.

Lance carded a hand through his hair. “Well, that’s thing. I don’t really know how they can help, or even if they can at all. But they tend to watch the going ons of the Galra, so they may know.”

“I thought the last time you were on the island above your kingdom, it was infested by a Galran squadron.” Allura said. “They may have cleared out by now, but it’s more likely that they’ve taken over the island to utilize it for resources.”

Lance’s chest tightened at the thought of his home, and the pressure only worsened when he thought about the chances of his family coming ashore to look for him and being met with the nets of the Galra reinforcements. He shook the image from his head, his entire body quaking.

“Luckily, these friends aren’t from my region. They’re from a different part of the sea, in a kingdom called Bakku.”

The crew followed him to the railing of the _Red Lion_ and watched him silently. Lance peered over the railing and dropped the transformation around his mouth to allow his human teeth to shape back into the sharpened teeth of a merman.

Sticking two fingers in his mouth, he whistled. He could sense the impatient shifting of his crew behind him as no sound emitted. But in fact, a sound _had_ emitted. It had just been too high for anyone on the crew to hear. This was the first time that Lance had ever used the whistle above water, so he hoped that it carried well anyway.

After a minute of silence, Hunk stepped up to peer over the railing with him.

“I don’t know what you were trying to accomplish buddy, but I don’t think it worked,”

Suddenly, there was a large splash in the sea below and Hunk reared back with a screech. The rest of the crew immediately had their weapons drawn, rushing towards the railing as Hunk reeled back. Lance held out his arms, a giant grin on his face.

Peering back at the crew from the sea was a giant animal, with large brown eyes and a pink nose. Her fur was black and white, and between the waves, Lance could just see a long finned tail lashing behind him.

“Kaltenecker!”

The hippocampus mooed at him, clearly just as happy to see him.

Before anyone could stop him, Lance had jumped overboard, shifting into his mer form. He dived underwater and Kaltenecker followed, swimming circles around him.

Fresh salt water cleaned out his pores and filled his gills like a breath of fresh air. The two danced together underwater as Lance rejoiced.

Lance surfaced with Kaltenecker beside him to see the crew of the _Red Lion_ gaping at him.

“What in the Great Seas is that?” Keith asked.

Lance beamed. “This is Kaltenecker,” He said, patting the hippocampus’ neck. “She’s a hippocampus!”

Allura made a face. “I thought hippocampus were supposed to be like horses,”

“She is a horse.”

“Lance, you’ve seen horses. You can literally shift into a horse. That’s not a horse.” Keith deadpanned.

_“It’s a sensitive subject!”_ He hissed, blocking his lips with his hand from Kaltenecker’s view.

Keith put his hands up in surrender. “Either way, this is your friend? How is she supposed to help us find Shiro?”

“She’s not.”

“Then what’s the point?” Pidge asked, clearly exasperated.

“She’s going to help us find the people who can help us find Shiro,”

Lance turned back to Kaltenecker, rubbing his between the ears. The hippocampus caressed his hand, pushing into his touch. Lance giggled.

“Hey buddy, can you take me to Plaxum? Remember her? Do you know where she is?” He asked.

Kaltenecker mooed, nuzzling his hand again.

Lance looked up at Keith, who was watching them with a look that Lance didn’t recognize.

“Can you follow Kaltenecker with the ship?”

Keith nodded and turned to Allura. “Allura, please go take over steering from Coran. Hunk, Pidge I need as many sails up as possible. I think we’re going to have to catch some serious air here if we want to move as fast as…” His face twisted up. “Kaltenecker.”

The crew members nodded, each scurrying off to do their assigned tasks. When they were gone, Keith kneeled down to the bottom of the railing to be closer to Lance.

“I’m going to go adjust the crystal that runs the ship to make it move faster, but if we get separated, will you come back?”

His tone was calm, his face composed, but Lance could see a vulnerability behind his eyes, a sort of hope. The captain of the _Red Lion_ , a strong and sharp pirate, looked as soft as he had the morning he had traced the markings along his face and kissed him.

Lance threaded a hand through the rails, and Keith took it, despite the water dripping from his skin.

“I promise, I’ll never be far. If we get separated, I promise I’ll come back.”

He let go, sinking back into the water and dove under the waves, the watery image of Keith distorting.

A few minutes later, the ship was ready to go, so Lance told Kaltenecker to lead the way. Kaltenecker was excited to be reunited with Lance and wanted to dart around the currents like they had so many times before, but Lance convinced her to stay close to surface of the water, just enough that Pidge could see the top of Kaltenecker’s fin and know they were still following her.

Lance threw his arms out, rushing through the water as his tail propelled him. While he wasn’t exactly hating his time spent aboard the _Red Lion_ anymore, there was nothing as pleasant as swimming freely in the water.

It felt like he hadn’t used his tail in forever, and in a way, he hadn't. Letting his transformation down and splashing about in the tub wasn’t enough to exercise the muscles. His tail stretched all the kinks out, moving freely and unconfined in the openness of the sea. When Lance felt a hand along the scales peppering his waist, they felt smoother and shinier. The dark blue color had faded to a particular black over the past few weeks, but the fresh salt water was reviving the dark blue color.

He weaved circles in the water, and darted underneath the hull of the _Red Lion_ , swimming laps around the ship. He didn’t think he would ever tire of it, but when he eventually did, he clung to Kaltenecker’s fins and allowed her to drag him along.

The current of the water ran it’s fingers through his hair as it dragged him along, and wrapped itself around him like a blanket. He leaned into the warmth of Kaltenecker’s fur. As happy as he was to be back in the ocean, he had barely slept all night. His eyes grew heavy as he rested on Kaltenecker, allowing the gentle hippocampus to guide him.

He woke to Kaltenecker snorting at his face.

“Hey buddy,” He said, pushing Kaltenecker’s face away from his own as he sat up. “Are we here?”

Kaltenecker mooed at him.

“Helpful. Thanks buddy.”

In front of Lance, was an underwater entrance to a cave. Bright red and purple coral surrounded the entrance. As Lance looked around, he realized that the _Red Lion_ was nowhere in sight.

“What happened to the ship?” He asked.

Kaltenecker snorted as a response.

“Kaltenecker, you were supposed to keep the ship in sight!”

Kaltenecker looked at him with an unchanging expression.

Lance sighed. “Okay. You wait here. After I’m done here, _you’re_ going to take me back to the ship. You weren’t supposed to race the ship, we wanted them to come too.”

Kaltenecker bellowed as Lance entered the cave. As he breached the surface, someone let out a gasp and suddenly something stung Lance across the face.

“Ow!” he cried.

“Lance?” A voice gasped.

“Oh my Goddess, I’m so sorry, Lance!” Another voice exclaimed.

Lance looked up at the three figures before him, rubbing his head.

“Did you just throw a jellyfish at me?”

Swirn blushed. “Sorry, you startled me. I wouldn’t have if I had known it was you.”

Lance hoisted himself onto the ledge that the other mer were sitting on. “Don’t worry about it. It stopped stinging already.”

Plaxum took his face in her hands, peering at the sore spot on his face. “Yeah, the swelling’s not too bad but there’s a pretty red slash on your cheek.” She patted his cheek with her webbed hand and he blushed.

A larger merman with a fur cape approached him, slapping a hand on his back. “We heard that you were missing! Your mother sent her royal army all the way to Queen Luxia’s territory looking for you. Queen Luxia herself was quite distraught when she heard the news.”

A chord of pain struck Lance at the news about his mother. He had known that she would be frantic enough to look for him, but he hoped that she hadn’t sent anyone to search the island.

“I’m sorry to worry you all. The situations a bit too complicated to explain right now, but please send word to my mother that I’m safe. For now though, I’m sort of here on business. I’m looking for someone and I thought that you might know something as advisors to Queen Luxia. I know she keeps an eye on the ships sailing over her territory.”

“Oh?” Plaxum asked. “Who are you looking for?”

“A man named Takeshi Shirogane.” Lance replied. “He was the captain of Altea’s Royal Guard.”

“Altea? Isn’t that a human country?”

“Yes, he’s the friend of some of my friends. The Galra took him and we can’t find him. I was wondering if you had seen any slave ships recently, or just unusual activity in general.”

The other three mer shared a glance.

“Our theory is that the Galra are hosting some large event.” Blumfump said.

“What kind of large event?”

Blumfump rolled out a large piece of waterproof parchment, with a map inscribed on it.

“We made this map to keep of track of their most commonly used routes. Most of the ships end up in this port,” He said, tapping a finger to a coastal region on the map.

“But we don’t know what the event is.”

“As you know, Queen Luxia rules the waters closest to Galra and there’s been a recent influx of merchant ships coming and going around there recently. Almost like they’re preparing for something like a festival or holiday. The queen’s tried to sink as many ships as possible, but the odds seem to be in their favor.” Swirn pointed to a few red X’s in the middle of the sea where the remains of destroyed ships could be found.

“We don’t know if your friend is there, but whatever’s going on in Galra is a big deal. There’s a chance that you may find him at whatever this event is. There may be slave sales, or perhaps if this man is as important as he sounds, they’ll make a public mockery of him in front of the empire.”

“I don’t know if you should go to whatever this event is,” Plaxum said, her voice heavy with concern.

“Why?” Lance asked.

“There’s a reason mer don’t interact with humans,” Blumfump said. “Any who do tend to disappear and never come back. Especially in Galra.”

Lance thought about that for a moment. If he went to Galra, he would be surrounded by the type of people who had destroyed his island, who had killed the Goddess’ horses, who possibly still threatened the lives of his people to this day.

But then he thought about the crease on Keith’s forehead, the constant scowl, the worry written into his eyes and the frustration that poured out in his wake. He thought of the kisses they had shared, and the loyalty that Keith had to Shiro and the early morning smiles that he shared with Lance and Lance realized that he wanted to see more of that. He wanted Keith to save Shiro. He wanted Keith to break his curse. But more than anything else, he wanted Keith to be happy.

“I’ve been adventuring with some humans lately, but I’m going to go home. I swear it. But this is something I need to take care of first.”

Plaxum looked like she wanted to object as she anxiously twisted the long strands of her blue hair around her finger, but Swirn cut her off. Her three eyes looked a bit watery.

“We trust your judgement, Lance, but please be safe. Not only are you a prince, but you’re also our friend.”

Lance hugged Swirn. “It will be okay. I’ll be back in my kingdom before you know it and as soon as I get back, I’ll send word.”

“You should write a letter to your mom. She’s been going out of her mind with worry. The ocean tends to carry those sort of feelings. We can feel it all the way in Bakku.”

“In the meantime, I’ll copy this map for you to give to your friends.” Blumfump said. He pulled out a bit more parchment and gave it to Lance along with a bit of colored coral to write with.

He looked at the blank page, overwhelmed by all the things he wanted to tell his family. He wanted to tell them how much he missed them. He wanted to tell them about the island, and that he was safe, and about all the friends he had made. He wanted to tell them about Keith. He could just imagine his mother’s smile as she read all the words he had to say about his time aboard the _Red Lion_.

He longed to see his mother’s face again, to make jokes with his siblings. They would have wrapped him up in a big hug and kissed his face and then gone inside the castle for dinner while Lance told them everything and his siblings cut in with quips every other sentence. He missed them so much.

Sensing his struggle, Plaxum put a hand on his shoulder. He appreciated her silent support. Plaxum was good like that, strong and knowledgeable, but also an excellent friend.

After a moment, he began to move the coral across the page. It had been a few weeks since he had had to write anything in Kelpian, but the language flowed out of his hand, like a river released from a dam.

In the end, he decided to keep the letter pretty brief. It told his mom that he was okay and that he was sorry to abandon his duties as the _Ayuto_ , but due to some unforeseen circumstances, he needed to help some friends. He promised he would explain everything when he returned soon. At the very end, he added a warning not to send anyone up to the island because there was a chance it was infested with Galran soldiers. At the very end of the note, he wrote out all the names of his family members, savoring the feeling of all their names under his hand, and said that he loved them.

Blumfump handed him his copy of the map, safely rolled up and tied with string. Plaxum promised that she would deliver Lance’s letter personally. Lance hugged his friends good-bye and told them to give Queen Luxia his regards and apologies as he exited the cave.

Kaltenecker was waiting for him, grazing on some seaweed. When she saw Lance, she mooed happily and gently butted her head against the skin of his stomach where Lance’s torso met his tail. Lance patted her neck, grabbing onto her fin once again.

“Okay buddy. Let’s go back to the _Red Lion_ now. Back to Keith.”

*

Without the hindrance of having to wait for the _Red Lion_ , Kaltenecker was able to swim at full pace, which was much faster. As Lance followed her he understood why Kaltenecker had eventually abandoned the ship after Lance had fallen asleep.

There was nothing like racing through the water at full speed, it was exhilarating. At first, the water pushed against your skin, trying to push you back, but then as you continued to increase in speed, you broke through its resistance and the water seemed to accept you as part of itself.

Breaking through that resistance was Lance’s favorite part.

He and Kaltenecker played tag with one another all the way back, darting in between any objects they could find to avoid one another. Lance always had to stay close though, since only Kaltenecker knew exactly where they were going.

Eventually, a familiar hull came into view.

“Is that it?” Lance asked, squinting at the bottom of the boat from a distance.

Kaltenecker mooed agreeably.

Lance peeked at the hippocampus from the corner of his eyes.

“Race you to the ship. Whoever slaps the side of the boat first wins?”

Kaltenecker was off like a shot.

“Hey, no fair!” Lance screeched, propelling himself through the water as fast as he could.

By some miracle, he caught up to Kaltenecker and they breached the surface of the water at the same time.

Lance slammed the palm of his hand into the side of the _Red Lion_ , at the same exact time as Kaltenecker whipped her giant tail out of the water and lashed at the ship. The force the two of them hit with caused the boat to rock and as they both splashed back into the water, Lance could hear startled noises from the _Red Lion_ ’s crew.

“Oops,” Lance said sheepishly, sticking his head out from under the water. Kaltenecker surfaced beside him.

“Lance!” Hunk, Allura, and Pidge appeared at the railing, peering down at him. In the background, he could hear Coran call from the wheel, asking if it was him. Allura shouted a response back, but Lance tuned them all out. As much as he loved the rest of the crew on the _Red Lion_ , and as happy as he was to see them, he was eager to see one person in particular.

A nest of wind-tousled black hair appeared in sight as the pale face gave him a familiar scowl.

“Are you _trying_ to sink my ship?”

“I didn’t mean to. My bad.”

Keith blinked.

“Didn’t mean to? So what, you just happened to slam into my boat at full speed?”

“I could have used my tail,” Lance said innocently.

“Kaltenecker used her tail,” Keith said accusingly.

“Yeah, but imagine _twice_ the tail power.”

Keith sighed in defeat, rolling his eyes.

Lance thanked Kaltenecker and gave her one last hug. Kaltenecker mooed and nuzzled her head into Lance’s chest lovingly one last time before she dove beneath the waves again and was gone in a flash. Lance watched the shadow of the hippocampus disappear into the depths again.

Keith stuck out a hand to Lance, which Lance took gratefully, and with help from Allura, pulled him aboard.

As Lance looked into Keith’s dark eyes, the relief on his face was apparent. Even though he was crouched right next to Lance, his voice was so quiet, Lance’s ears had to twitch upwards to hear him.

“I was worried when we got separated, but I’m glad you came back.”

“I promised,” Lance said simply.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For every comment you leave, I write in another klance kiss. I don't make the rules. 
> 
> or come chat at my tumblr: [celestial-caster](https://celestial-caster.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Go give some love for the chapter art, done by [saltwater-paladin](https://saltwater-paladin.tumblr.com/)


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Celebrations are to be had

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ANNOUNCEMENT: We're beginning the climax of this story that has consumed my life! How EXCITING! However, that also means the end is nigh. There MAY be a small hiatus where I plan out the ending of this fic, but who knows. We'll play it by ear for now, but if I miss an update or two, now you know the reason why. 
> 
> On a side note, it's been a long week tbh. I hope you all had a lovely week, and if you didn't, I hope this one looks up for you. You're all lovely and you deserve the best. Remember to take care of yourselves!

After a brief reunion, Lance explained what he had learned from Plaxum, Blumfump, and Swirn, and the _Red Lion_ was set into motion. Naturally, Keith was very eager to put this newfound information to use.

To the crew’s surprise, he had some information of his own to add to it.

After Lance had told the crew about the recent influx of Galran activity and showed them the circled area on the map, Keith’s face had taken a grim look to it.

“It’s not really a holiday,” he said.

“Do you know what it is?” Pidge asked. She re-adjusted her glasses on the bridge of her nose as she overlooked the map.

Keith was silent for a minute before cracking his fingers. He sighed heavily.

“It’s possible that Galra is planning for a coronation.”

“Coronation?” Lance asked.

“Of course,” Allura said, a hint of awe in her voice. “Why didn’t I think of that? There were rumors that Galra’s king, Zarkon had fallen ill, but a official declaration never came, so I assumed that was just an Altean rumor.”

“No,” Keith said flatly, “Galra has never been big on accepting weakness.” His fingers drummed along the skin of his arm.

“Who will be crowned during this ceremony?” Lance asked.

“Lotor, probably,” Keith scowled, rolling his eyes.

Now it was Allura’s turn to sigh heavily. “Won’t that be a sight.”

“Who’s Lotor?” Lance asked, still very confused. The name sounded familiar, but he couldn’t match a face to the name.

“The first born son of Lord Zarkon and a pain in everyone’s ass,” Allura griped.

“Now, Princess, you know that one day you may have to start diplomatics with him,” Coran chided.

Her regal features furrowed into a sort of pout. “I know, but he’s so… cunning. I don’t trust him as far as I can throw him, and that’s pretty far.”

Even though he had never seen Lotor, Lance didn’t doubt that she could.

“Lotor has always desired the throne, but Zarkon didn’t want to pass the throne over to his son. He doesn’t think very highly of him. Besides, usually the Galra fight for the throne, not inherit it.” Keith said. “If there's a coronation happening, it either means that Zarkon has begrudgingly allowed Lotor to succeed the throne, or something has happened to Zarkon.

“I’ve had the fortune of only meeting Zarkon a few times, but from what I know about him and his queen, the latter seems more likely,” Coran noted.

“Agreed,” Keith said grimly.

Lance was still pondering over where he had heard the name Lotor and suddenly it clicked.

“Do you know Lotor?” He asked Keith. Keith’s look hardened, but only fleetingly before he masked his expression again.

“Everyone knows Lotor, unfortunately,” He grumbled.

“Yeah, but do you know him, like, _personally_?”

As soon as Lance asked the question, he sort of regretted it because he could instantly see Keith’s guard go up. It was like a dam had been built behind his eyes, and now there was no way to see inside his head.

“Why would you say that?”

Well, Lance had already started this conversation, he might as well press on.

“That general, Acxa, said ‘Lotor says it’s time for you to come home’. What does that mean?”

Keith’s eyes dropped to the ground. The tension in the air was so thick it was suffocating but the rest of the crew watched and waited silently.

“It means nothing. Like I said, the _Red Lion_ is my home now. I may have known Lotor to some degree, but we have no relation now. There’s nothing more to discuss.”

*

As soon as the crew dispersed to get on with their daily tasks, Lance took Keith by the arm and dragged him into the captain’s quarters, firmly shutting the door behind them. Keith’s face was unreadable, but whatever emotion was on it, it wasn’t pleasant. Lance didn’t spare any concern for it, the time for niceties was over. The merfolk always went straight in for the kill.

“You’re hiding something.” Lance said. It wasn’t a question.

Keith shifted again, the drumming on his arm increasing in pace.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” he said.

“You don’t want to talk about anything,” Lance snapped. “Not your curse, not whatever you’re hiding now. I’ve told you my secrets why can’t you trust me with yours?”

Keith ran his fingers through his hair, anxiously pulling strands out of his ponytail. He pulled out the tie in his hair and redid it, choosing to ignore Lance in the meantime. When he was done he exhaled through his nose.

“It’s not that I don’t trust you. It’s that my past is,” he hesitated, “complicated, and I don’t want to drag you into anything.”

Lance looked at the boy across from him sadly. He had the posture of a captain, back straight, chin held high, well muscled arms, but his dark eyes held so much emotion that Lance couldn’t read.

“You dragged me into this the minute you left my island with me aboard your ship.”

Keith visibly flinched, but lifted his eyes to meet Lance’s. They stared at each other for a minute, and the room was so quiet and tense that the waves quieted underneath the ship and even the seagulls stopped crowing for a minute. Nothing could be heard except for their breathing and the pounding of their hearts.

“I… Shiro saved me from the Galra. I had escaped from the capital, but I still wasn’t free of their territory. Shiro had gotten into some trouble himself and I offered to help in exchange for a ride out of Galran territory. But our plans went awry and when I got captured by some Galran bounty hunters, Shiro came for me anyway and took me aboard _The Voltron_. He gave me the means to escape from my shitty home.”

From the look on Keith’s face and the hesitance in his voice, Lance knew this was the truth. But there was something that was itching at his scales, something that told his this wasn’t the whole truth.

“Okay, so you’re Galra, big deal. I don’t like the Galra, but obviously I’ve only ever met them when they were trying to kill me. Don’t forget that I am a prince. I know that an entire kingdom cannot be judged by its rulers and its soldiers. The real question is, why were you being chased by bounty hunters?”

Keith’s face went slack and as much as it pained Lance to see, he could tell he had caught the fish that was trying to wriggle through the net in his mind.

“I was a general in the Galran army,” Keith said weakly.

“Like Ezor and the other women we met?” Lance asked. “Acxa and Narti?”

Keith nodded. That confession seemed to have the same effect on his as fighting did. It looked like he had lost all the air in his lungs, he could no longer make eye contact with Lance, but rather preoccupied himself with looking at the floor.

Lance wanted to say something, anything to wipe that look off of his face, but his mind was struggling to comprehend what he had just learned. He didn’t want to imagine Keith wearing the Galra colors, the heavy armor, but his mind helpfully supplied the image. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath in, and pushed the image away. Instead, he thought about every real memory he had of Keith since coming aboard the _Red Lion_.

Keith coming to visit him in the tub in the middle of the night, Keith grasping his hand in his, Keith looking up at the stars in the crow’s nest, Keith tracing his markings, one at a time, slowly and gently, nothing except the warmth of his fingers and the bed sheets. These were the memories that Lance called back, that he clung to, that destroyed any violent image of Keith his mind could conjure.

When he opened his eyes again, Keith was waiting for him to say something, his brow furrowed and face pale. The fingers on his left hand drummed anxiously up and down the length of his crossed arms.

Lance took a step forward and he could see the hesitation in Keith’s body, part of him wanting to run away, the other part wanting to reach out. Lance spared him the decision by reaching out for him.

He pulled Keith to him and for a moment, they stood in silence. Slowly, the waves started to murmur quietly against the hull of the ship and the seagulls began to crow again. Without a word, Lance kissed Keith on the lips. When he pulled away, all he said was,

“Wow, general to pirate, that’s a pretty big downgrade I think.”

Keith cracked a small smile, but it was the brightest thing in the room.

*

 

Over the course of the journey to the harbor town circled on Blumfump’s map, the crew tried to keep busy to distract themselves. Pidge fiddled with numerous devices, rarely working on the same thing two days in a row. Hunk experimented with new recipes for the crew. When Lance wasn’t trading stories with Coran or nagging Pidge to take care of themselves, or occasionally dragging Keith away from his “captain duties”, Lance practiced all the things the Priestess had taught him. It didn’t matter how big or small the task was, Lance just enjoyed having control.

He helped Hunk wash the dishes after dinner by pulling the water out of the large basin he normally used and forced the sudsy water to roll around the dishes until the plates were just as clean as they’d come. When Allura and Keith had been worrying about being caught amidst a storm, he had forced the waves to hurry the ship along until the angry clouds overhead had subsided.

At some point, one of Pidge’s devices blew up, creating a sooty mess over the deck of the _Red Lion_ and burning a hole in one of the new sails. Keith forced Pidge to clean the deck while he mended the hole in the sail. Pidge spent so long grumbling about cleaning the deck again that Lance took pity on her. He kicked over the bucket of water

Pidge had brought up and ignored her as she started to yell at him.

With the swipe of his hand, the waves were following, rolling over the wooden planks and swiping away the black grease that covered everything within the vicinity of the machine.

“Scrub the planks!” He commanded.

The water obeyed without hesitation, scrubbing mercilessly at the boards until not a speck was left. When he turned around, Pidge’s jaw was agape. His grin stretched from ear to ear.

A few days before the _Red Lion_ was due to land ashore, the crew gathered in the galley to eat. The conversation at dinner was relatively mundane with Pidge and Hunk talking animatedly about some mechanical thing they were working on together. They were trying to explain it to Allura, but it was clear that she was a bit lost. Lance gave her credit for even trying, all that mechanical talk was mumbo jumbo to him.

Keith was always quiet at dinner, always laughing along with the other crew members, but only contributing to the conversation if he was addressed first or had something important to tell the crew. Sometimes, Lance would kick him underneath the table and Keith would make a face at him before kicking him back. This secret warfare usually ended in them having a silent stare-off, but today Keith was invested in a conversation with Coran.

They were talking about the ship, but it was a pretty mundane conversation and Lance found it a bit boring, so he tuned the conversation out, swirling the rum around in his cup idly. He eyed the liquid as it moved.

Well. That could be interesting.

Lance had never tried using his powers on anything other than water. Sure, the water that he helped clean with had soap mixed in with it, but that was diluted. It was still mostly water.

He squinted his eyes in concentration, trying to focus on shaping the rum. It was a little harder, because rum wasn’t as fluid or malleable as water, but the more he wanted it, the more the rum seemed to bend to his will. As he dragged his hand upwards, the liquid in his cup followed, forming little bubbles that he could rotate in midair around the rim of his cup.

“Lance, don’t play with your food,” Hunk chided.

Lance was abruptly pulled back to the table, the bubbles of rum in the air releasing and splashing back into his cup. He flinched as some of it splashed towards his face.

Hunk shook his head, but his smile was fond. He placed a plate down in front of Lance, identical to the plates he had already set in front of everyone else. On the plate was a small round bit of bread with something smeared over the top. Lance hadn’t seen Hunk make anything like this yet. The bread looked spongy and Lance swiped a single finger through the substance on the top and stuck it in his mouth.

His jaw dropped as he shrieked. Hunk pulled back a bit, looking startled.

“Does it taste bad?” He asked.

Lance shook his head vigorously. “No! It’s so…” he looked for the right word to describe it.

“Sweet?” Allura supplied.

“Yes! That!” Lance exclaimed. “You’ve never made this before.”

Hunk laughed. “Not while you’ve been around, I guess. It’s a cake. Humans make them a lot when it’s someone’s birthday.”

Lance hummed. Back home, there was always a large feast when it was his or someone in his family’s birthday, so this must be like that.

“Whose birthday is it?” He asked.

Hunk looked a bit anxiously at Keith, who rolled his eyes in response.

“Mine. I don’t celebrate it, but this is the second year that Hunk’s made everyone little cakes.”

Lance frowned. “Why don’t you celebrate it?”

Keith shrugged, failing to look nonchalant. “It’s not really something to celebrate.”

“Nonsense! It’s the anniversary of your birth!” Hunk exclaimed. “Where would we be without our great captain and friend?”

“Should we sing?” Allura asked, her smile sly.

“Sing?” Lance asked.

“Don’t you dare,” Keith replied, giving the princess his most menacing look he could muster. She merely laughed though.

The other crew members started to dig into their cakes, so Lance closed his eyes for a moment and murmured a blessing to the Goddess over his cake. Technically, nothing he ate aboard the _Red Lion_ was something he had hunted, and he didn’t think this cake had sacrificed it’s life, but it was routine for him to say a thank you before eating.

He hadn’t wanted to give it up, even aboard this ship, so he had continued to say it before every meal. The crew never asked him about it, and eventually it just became normal to them to hear him say it.

However, when he opened his eyes this time, Keith was staring at him curiously.

“Is that something all mer do, or just you?”

Lance blinked. “No, we do it before we eat, especially if it’s something that had to sacrifice it’s life for our well-being or something particularly nice.”

“Something nice?” Hunk asked. Lance looked down the table, realizing that all of the crew members were listening to their conversation now.

“Yeah, you know, like shark wrapped in seaweed,” a slow smile began to twitch at the corners of his lips. “Sharks are hard to catch, but my mom used to catch one every year for my birthday and then prepare the rest of the dish herself. The head chef nearly had a heart attack when the queen came through carrying a huge shark and wanting to use her kitchen.”

“Oh, I know what you mean,” Hunk replied. “My mom used to make the best _Panipopo_. They’re like this really sweet buns made with coconut. Every Sunday, she made them to eat with supper.”

“Did you learn how to cook from her?” Allura asked.

Hunk nodded. “She taught me how to cook, but once she got in the kitchen, you best stay out of her way,” he laughed.

“My mom was like that,” Lance said thoughtfully. “She taught me a style of fighting called _Kelpian Lucha_ , where you basically utilize your claws and your tail when you fight.” He made a face. “I thought she was going to kill me when I was learning! She has no mercy, even on her own son.”

“She sounds really strong,” Pidge noted.

“She is!” Lance exclaimed, grinning. “Her tail is way longer than mine, and ten times as strong, I’m sure she could fight the ocean if she wanted to.”

Keith blinked at him in surprise. “But your tail _is_ super long. How long is her tail?”

Lance made a rough estimate in his head. “About twice the length of this table.”

The crew fell silent for a minute, looking down the table that could seat eight people. Keith blanched.

“Are you going to grow that large?”

Lance pouted. “No! All of the male merfolk are smaller! It isn’t fair!” He sighed. “But, anyways, it’s kind of funny that my mom is good at fighting because she’s a Ningyo. Ningyo are said to be “omens of war and calamity.” My dad has always been really into saving animals. Once he saved an injured seal. He met my mom when she saved him from a gam of sharks who had been attracted by the seal’s blood. He said that she killed like three sharks and scared the fourth away with a single look.” Lance chuckled. “He was worried that he was next.”

“Your parents sound like great people,” Keith said softly.

“They are! My mom is kickass, but she’s also really kind and she’s a believer in fighting for what’s right. She has the prettiest hair, it’s even darker and longer than Keith’s! And her tail is golden and shines like the sun. I took after my dad, but he also super nice and because my mom is the queen, he gets to toil around the sea all day looking for animals that need help. Sometimes he takes me and my siblings with him. He’s really funny, too. Sometimes he’ll make a fish face at us and then shapeshift into an actual fish. It’s just as funny now as it was when I was five.”

Suddenly, Lance’s smile faltered. There was a coldness creeping up in his stomach, poisoning the warmth of his memories. There was a deep sense of longing, tugging at his gut. He missed his family so much. They had always been close, both literally and emotionally, and Lance had never been so far away for so long. He missed the way his mom would card her hand through his hair when she saw him, the way she wrapped his tail in hers sometimes, how the corners of his dad’s eyes would crinkle right before he made his fish face, a tell tale sign of what was to come. He missed the sound of their voices, and even more than that, the sound of their laughter.

The table’s conversation had moved on, the other members of the crew happily reminiscing about their own families and homes that they had chosen to leave.

Keith was staring at him from across the table, his dark blue eyes filled with the question of concern. Lance merely offered a weak smile, but he could tell that Keith saw right through it. He bumped Lance’s knee with his leg under the table in a silent show of comfort.

*

Coran pulled up a chest that Lance had never seen before. He was fairly sure that Coran hadn’t brought it aboard when he and Allura joined the _Red Lion_ , so he literally had no clue where he had been hiding it. When he cracked open the lid, it revealed several different clothing items.

“If we’re going to attend a Galran coronation ceremony, we’ll need disguises.”

“Good thinking!” Lance said, digging into the box. He was a little disappointed to see how heavy the clothes looked, but the designs were still interesting.

Lance chose a navy blue cloak with silver swirls branching out over it. The inside was lined with black fur to keep the wearer warm.

Pidge pulled several items out of the chest, pants and a shirt as well as boots. They tried them on to be sure they weren’t too big and then finished the ensemble by adding a fur trimmed brown cape with a hood.

Allura found a heavy grey cloak with white fur around the opening of the hood. It had a flower design trailing down the side of it in white.

“Do you think this is too eye-catching?” She asked.

Keith shook his head. “This is an important festival. Even the poorest people will be wearing their nicest clothes.” He peered into the chest. “All of the clothing items here look fine. The important thing is that they’re warm and have the ability to hide your face if need be.”

Hunk chose a dark pull over with a belt cinched around his waist. He wrapped a large cowl around his neck that he was easily able to pull over his mouth and nose.

Coran settled on a long black robe with a cape on top of it matched with some heavy black boots. He added an eyepatch, and once again Lance had no clue where or why he had gotten it.

Keith was the last to choose a disguise. He rummaged around the chest for a minute, tossing clothes to the side.

“What about this one?” Lance asked, leaning over Keith and drawing out a red velvet cloak lined with fur, much like the one Lance was wearing, minus the pattern.

Keith glanced at it before shaking his head. “Too bright.”

He pulled out another cloak, a little less thinner than the one Lance had been holding. This one was still red, but the coloring was on the inside of the cloak. On the outside, it was just a plain brown cloak that draped over Keith’s shoulders. It had a hood that he could pull over his head and he added a scarf underneath to mask his face even further.

“Won’t you be cold in that?” Pidge asked.

Keith shrugged. “No, I’m used to the cold weather. This will do nicely, I think.”

The next order of business was the ship. There was no way the _Red Lion_ could pull up to the ports in Galra and not be captured. Everyone there had heard of the infamous pirate Keith Kogane and his ship the _Red Lion_ , so naturally, Coran decided that the ship needed a disguise as well.

“How are you going to do that?” Lance asked.

“Well, we’ll need to take down her jolly roger- don’t make that face Keith, it’s only for a little bit, and paint over her name.”

“What about the ship itself?” Allura questioned. “Anyone who knows anything about ships will know this one is clearly an Altean build.”

Coran grinned, twisting his reddish mustache between his fingers. “For that, Princess, I think we have just the thing.”

Lance climbed up the mast and pulled down the black flag with a lion painted on it while Pidge, Hunk, and Coran conspired below on the main deck. Keith had begrudgingly gone off to find a bucket of paint and was now busy painting over the side of the ship that said _Red Lion_. With every swipe of his paint brush, his scowl grew.

Finally, the hull was covered in fresh paint, any trace of the name _Red Lion_ covered by a new moniker, _The Sunset Speeder_.

Coran, Hunk, and Pidge proudly displayed their makeshift invention. It didn’t look like much, but Lance recognized several pieces as things that Pidge had bought at the market.

“What is that?” he asked.

“I’m glad you asked,” Coran said, beaming. “This device will attach to the crystal that we use to power the ship. By turning the crank this way,” he gestured to the right with his hand, “we can pull an illusion over the ship, changing her colors and build to the normal eye. It doesn’t change what’s actually there, but more of makes a mirage, if you will.”

"A mirage?” Lance asked, wrinkling his nose in confusion.

“Like an illusion,” Keith clarified. “But what does that entail exactly?”

“Basically, if anyone gets aboard the _Red Lion_ , they’ll see it exactly as we see it,” Pidge explained. “As an Altean ship. But I’ve programmed this device to make it look like it has the shape and dull colors of a Galran made ship, so anyone standing on the docks should see that instead.”

“They can be standing right next to it and they won’t be able to tell!” Hunk exclaimed. “The device can’t change the key factors though, so they’ll still be able to see how many sails we have and what the name on the ship is. If we had more time maybe, but…”

“No, that sounds great guys.” Keith said.

The three grinned and started chattering about ways they could advance their hastily put together project, but it all sounded like fish speech to Lance.

Now that the ship was properly disguised, Allura took the map Lance had been given and they began the trip into Galran waters.

Although no one said anything, it was clear that tension was running high among the members of the _Red Lion_ , as none of them were really sure what they were sailing into. Keith took to cleaning his sword in his free time, so much that the blade squeaked in protest every time he took a rag to it again. When Allura wore her fancy armor to breakfast, no one questioned it. Hunk stowed away in the kitchen, stirring his worries along with the pot on the stove.

That night they crowded around on the upper deck and sat in a circle, with Hunk playing the guitar and Lance singing. Somehow, this had become a habit, not every night, but often enough, and for that moment, under the night sky, with a gentle melody floating through the air, everyone’s worries were quelled.

*

The afternoon, the port came into view. Boats of all nationalities and sizes crowded the docks and as Coran navigated through the waters, the rest of the crew hustled into their disguises.

After that, there was nothing left to do but wait as Coran slid the boat into a cramped, empty space and dropped the anchor. The crew waited with bated breath, but no one on shore yelled at them, so it was safe to assume the modified crystal was working.

As they filed off the boat, Coran wished them good luck and told them to be safe. Lance felt like they were really going to need it. The group said their goodbyes as they split and wished Coran a peaceful time of watching the ship.

“Welcome to Winturn,” Keith said. “Watch out for soldiers and pickpockets.”

Walking down the busy streets of Winturn, Lance was struck by how dark the Galran color scheme always seemed to be. Even though they were celebrating the coronation of their prince, everything seemed to be in dark red or purple, and black. The only accenting colors were white and gold and while it was very beautiful, it was everywhere. The merchant stands, the drapery, the clothing, the paper lanterns that lined the streets, anywhere you went these colors followed.

There were lots of soldiers patrolling the streets, but there were just as many civilians who were unarmed, which helped put Lance at ease a little.

Music played loudly, a crashing of drums in a celebratory march as the musicians and several dancers paraded down the street. The dancers were dressed in as little clothes as possible for the cold weather that lingered over their city. They wore long black leggings with red dresses that swirled around their knees as they danced. Tied around their shoulders were thick black capes, embroidered in silver that trailed behind them.

While Lance was usually excited to see the towns they visited, this one felt overwhelming to him. The music pounded in his ears, almost louder than his heartbeat and twice as fast. Everyone was moving, pushing against the crowd to try and get wherever they were going. Several people jostled against Lance, which sent a spike of panic through him every time, thinking someone was about to grab him.

As the crew made their way through the crowded streets, Lance eyed the people around him. He fought to keep his breath even and he tugged the hood of his cloak a little lower to shadow his face. He knew that all of these people weren’t to blame for the intrusion and destruction of his home, but he couldn’t help imagining them there. They had the same physical traits and mannerisms as the soldiers that had. Every time someone yelled with a particular accent, Lance had to consciously stop himself from flinching, his mind thrown back to the deep, accented yells of the men on his island.

Hunk seemed to notice that he was struggling to remain calm, so he nudged him with his shoulder. The sudden force caused Lance to stumble, and he grabbed Hunk’s sleeve to steady himself. The motion dragged Lance from his thoughts and placed him back among his crew members. They weren’t safe, not by any means, but together they were stronger.

Lance and Hunk met eyes and he nodded his thanks. The creases of concern eased out of the corners of Hunk’s eyes as he gave him the warmest grin he had ever received.

Keith was at the head of the crew, darting between people with his head ducked like he was afraid someone would see him, and to be fair, maybe he was. He had been a general of the Galran military, after all. Lance had no doubts that many of his former soldiers would be attending this celebration ceremony.

The rest of the crew hurried to keep up with Keith’s pace, but Lance didn’t miss the wonderment in their eyes as they looked around the city streets. While the decor was all dark, rich colors, it was certainly pleasing to the eye. Vendors lined the streets, calling out to people, and selling various types of food. Hunk’s head twisted this way and that, trying to see all the diverse food options. Farther down, a man had set up a cart with little mechanical trinkets for children that Pidge was eyeing with a look of fascination.

To calm himself, Lance kept running over the plan in his head. So far, everything was working out. It things continued like this, they would get in and out, they would find Shiro and be back on the _Red Lion_ , back to safety, before anyone knew differently.

When the crew had been discussing how they were going to find Shiro in such a large city, Keith had let slip some more information that he apparently had stored away. He knew a rebel group that kept an eye on the happenings around the city. If the crew went to their secret base, it was possible that someone would know something.

The idea of rebel soldiers made Lance incredibly nervous, but he trusted Keith. He had to trust that this was going to work out.

Ahead, Keith slowed down, allowing for the rest of the group to catch up with him.

“The entrance to the base is ahead, in the back of that alley. It would be too suspicious if we all entered at the same time, so keep walking and then turn back after a few minutes. I need to go let their leader know we’re not a threat. Lance, you’re coming with me.” Keith said, eyes gliding over all the faces of his crew members.

Allura, Pidge, and Hunk nodded in understanding. When Keith and Lance slipped into the alley, the three of them kept walking, not sparing the two a glance. Keith strode to the darkest part of the alley, where there was a door hidden in the shadows. Lance squinted. Even though he knew the door was there, it was incredibly hard to see.

Keith glanced back the way they had come before rapping his fist on the door, three times sharply.

A slit in the door slid open.

“Who’s there?” Someone asked from behind the door.

Keith unsheathed his knife and held it to the slot so the person behind the door could see it.

“I’m here to see Kolivan.”

The door swung open and a person in heavy black armor and a mask stood in the doorway. Keith lowered his hood and resheathed his knife.

“Oh,” the man said, clearly surprised. “I thought you were dead.”

“Not yet. I have three other friends, a big guy and two young women, coming in a few minutes, but they don’t have knives so do me a favor and show them in.”

The man nodded and let the two of them through.

There were many more people dressed like the man at the door and as they navigated their way deeper into the base, Lance stuck close to Keith.

They entered a large room, where the soldiers stood against the wall. At the very front of the room, there’s a raised platform where a taller man stands.

“It’s good to see you again, Kolivan.” Keith said.

The man turned around. Unlike the others, he wasn’t wearing a mask. He had a sharp jaw and an even sharper scar crossing over one eye. His eyes widened in surprise for a moment at the sight of Keith, before he sighed and shook his head.

“One day, death will catch you. I should’ve known that now wasn’t that time.”

“Probably, but don’t worry, death will catch up to me plenty soon.” Keith replied.

Suddenly, one of the soldiers rushed from behind at Lance, who froze at the sudden movement. The soldier grabbed him by the arm and threw him to the floor, pinning him there. He heard the sleek sound of Keith pulling out his knife, but another member blocked his path to Lance.

Lance swallowed the fear ripping at his breath, but he could do nothing to stop the whimper from escaping him.

“Antok, let him go!” Keith demanded, through grit teeth.

“You’re a fool to diverge the location of our base to outsiders, Keith. It doesn’t matter who you are, you’re going to get us all killed.” Kolivan glowered.

“Because of who you are, we’re even more likely to die!” The soldier pinning Lance, Antok, added.

The doors to the room slid open automatically as another masked soldier entered, followed by Hunk, Pidge, and Allura. Their hoods were down and they were watching the scene before them with wide eyes. Their hands were on their weapons, and the three of them looked to Keith to see how they should react.

“More people? Did you tell your mother and father too, Keith?” Keith visibly flinched. “Who are you?” Kolivan demanded, turning back to the trio.

“My name is Allura, princess of Altea.” Allura said, stepping forward, her hand still on the hilt of her sword. “Release Lance right now! We’re just here looking for our friend, nothing more.”

“Keith said you might be able to help.” Pidge added hesitantly.

Hunk wrung his hands together nervously as Kolivan looked the group over. He looked back to Lance and he must have seen the sheer panic on Lance’s face.

“Antok, release the boy.” Antok got up, letting go of Lance’s arms. Lance scrambled to his feet, quickly moving to stand among the other crew members while he rubbed his sore arms.

Kolivan continued, looking again at Keith. “Our organization is built on secrecy and trust. Why should we help you after all this? You practically dropped off the face of the earth!”

“I did what I needed to do. You owe me plenty of favors for the work I did before I left.”

Kolivan seemed to ponder this for a second. “It’s true that you have proven yourself.”

“I beg you, please hear us out,” Keith said. “It’s a matter of knowledge or death.”

For some reason, this seemed to be all Kolivan needed to hear. He spread his hands, palms upwards.

“What can the Blade of Marmora do for you, Keith?”

*

After Keith had explained the problem at hand and told Kolivan all the relevant information about Shiro he could possibly need, Kolivan sent several masked soldiers to go look in the Blade’s database.

While they waited for the men to come back, the group stood in awkward silence while Kolivan glared at Keith. Finally he asked, “Where did you go?”

“I fled the empire. Shiro took me aboard his merchant ship, although now she’s a pirate ship.”

Kolivan scoffed. “Sounds like something you would do. Thace didn’t think you were dead, said the empire would have made an accident to cover up your disappearance if they had killed you.”

Keith hummed, tapping his fingers on his arm. “Probably. I’m surprised they didn’t anyways.”

“It would look bad on the empire if you happened to show up again. And look, here you are. You got out and now you’re back.”

“Here I am.”

The doors slid open again as the soldiers who had went to gather information came back. They saluted Kolivan before speaking.

“Sir, we’ve found information on the one they call Takeshi Shirogane.”

“What is it?” Keith asked eagerly.

The soldiers ignored him, continuing their report to Kolivan.

“There was a report of a slave ship picking up an Altean commander. He was tossed around for a bit, from ship to ship, but apparently he was brought here for the coronation ceremony. There’s no official record of his whereabouts now.”

“He’s here though,” Keith said, staring wide. He shared a look with Lance. They were so close.

“He’s here, somewhere.” One of the soldiers said, finally acknowledging the crew’s presence.

“If I had to guess, I would say he’s probably going to be taken to the castle. An Altean commander seems like something Lotor would like as a playtoy.” Kolivan said. Keith shuddered and Lance reached out a hand to place on his arm.

Kolivan continued, ignoring Keith’s discomfort. “It would be in your best interest to figure out where he is before they transport him to the castle, Keith. Otherwise, I’m afraid you might find your situation compromised.”

Keith sighed, forcing his body to calm itself. “I know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For every comment you leave, I sell another piece of my soul to the writing gods. 
> 
> Or come chat at my tumblr: [celestial-caster](https://celestial-caster.tumblr.com/)
> 
> ALSO!! Go reblog and love the amazing art from [saltwater-paladin](https://saltwater-paladin.tumblr.com/)


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the city of Winturn prepares for a coronation ceremony, the crew goes to a slave auction looking for Shiro.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy the happiness while it lasts guys XD
> 
> Minor warning for a heavy make out scene (you'll know when it's about to happen), but no sex because that would be public indecency ;)
> 
> ALSO! How did everyone feel about season 5? I actually really enjoyed it and I think it reinvigorated my will to write a bit. What amazing timing that just as we're getting to a coronation scene here, there's one in canon. I might thread aspects of s5 into this fic, but idk, we'll see. This has always been a fantasy AU, so it's not really super canon compliant.

“Where do we start looking?” Allura asked.

Keith grimaced. “I think we’re going to have to pay a visit to the auction house.”

“What’s an auction house?” Lance asked, pronouncing the word carefully.

“Well, usually it’s just a place where people bid for goods. The person who pays the most gets whatever product the auction house is selling,” Keith explained. His scowl deepened.“Here, the ‘goods’ are a bit different though.”

Lance frowned at his tone. “What does that mean?”

“It means that the Galra are selling people in their auction houses as slaves.” Allura said, anger visibly written across her face. “They want their cheap labor and servitude. Galra is a rich country, getting richer by relying on the hard work of others.”

Horror morphed across Lance’s features as he processed what she had said. He looked at Keith for confirmation, his eyes blown wide. Keith looked away.

“Unfortunately, it’s true. It’s one of the things the current monarchy has implemented.”

Lance quirked an eyebrow at him. “Lotor?” He asked.

Keith shook his head. "Lotor won’t have any real power unless he gets coronated. His father, king Zarkon, is the one that started this mess. He got hungry for more resources and started colonizing other countries in order to gain those resources. It was only natural to him to make the people living there laborers for the Galra. He had no use for them otherwise.”

Lance took Keith’s hand in his own. The captain had balled his fist up, nails digging into his palm hard enough to break the skin into little crescent moons. At his touch, Keith’s fingers slowly released, choosing to intertwine with Lance’s fingers instead. The crew was watching with interest, but no one said anything.

“Do you know where the auction house is? We should get going.” Lance said.

Keith nodded mutely and together, hand in hand, they made their way through the crowd, their crew following closely behind.

The auction house wasn’t really anything like what Lance had been imagining. He had thought it would be bigger, for one. He had also expected the place to have tiny windows with bars over them, for it to generally look as condemning as he felt it probably was.

In reality, it was a totally normal looking building, no different than any other building in any other town. There were no bars on the windows and it was painted a faded yellow. People flowed through the doors and with one look at the extravagant clothes they wore, Lance could tell they were all rich.

The crew jostled their way through the crowd until they were in a position where they could all stand next to each other and see the stage clearly. For a few minutes, no one said anything, they just listened to the idle chatter of the people around them. Lance shifted uncomfortably, trying to block out any thoughts of his island while being surrounded by so many Galran people. He reminded himself that these weren’t soldiers.

A few minutes later, the auctioneer came out onto the stage and announced the start of the auction. With the ring of a bell, they marched out a group of prisoners. They were all of different ethnicities, torn from their homes. Through the thin rags they wore, Lance could see how unhealthy they were. Their hair laid limp on their skull, ribcage clearly evident in many of them.

Lance could feel his blood start to boil. Any fear he had of being in this city was gone, stamped on by the feet of the people in this trade house. How could anyone think to do such an awful thing?

When he looked at the prisoners, he could see a certain expression on their faces, a particular resignation, the knowledge that they probably would never see their homes and their families again. Lance wondered if he had ever worn such an expression.

When one of the prisoners didn’t line up quite right, someone yanked on the chains attached to their arms, the restraints digging into their skin and forcing them to stumble into line.

“Remain calm, you can’t lash out here.” Keith whispered. For a minute, Lance thought he was talking to him, but Keith was staring right behind him. He turned around to see Allura, whose hand was clenched so tightly around her sword that Lance wasn’t sure which would break first, the sword or her hand.

“But they-” She started.

“I know. I know, but there’s nothing we can do. If we start a riot, we’ll be outnumbered immediately. As much as I want to help them, we can’t. I’m sorry.” His eyes slid to Lance.

Allura breathed in deeply, forcing her brow to even out and her fingers to unclench. Her hand remained scarily close to the hilt of her broadsword, but for the most part her body wasn’t screaming murder anymore.

The crew stood in silence as the auction began. The auctioneer was a portly man with a cigar yellowed smile, sickly and cruel. He displayed every prisoner with a number and where they had come from. He then listed all the ways that they could aid the common people. Most of the prisoners were men, who in their prime, would be able to do a lot of physical labor. Their arms hung limply in front of them, chained together.

Lance and Allura stood shoulder to shoulder, a force of reason and stewing anger as the auction went on. Whenever one started to get too angry, the other would give a reassuring touch, just to remind them of where they were. Keith stood a little to the side, and Lance found himself watching the captain more than the actual auction. Keith’s eyes were fixed firmly on the stage, waiting for a glimpse of Shiro, but they couldn’t hide the sadness that was written so deeply into them.

Lance wondered what it was like to grow up in a city that supported something as atrocious as this. Keith clearly didn’t support it, but there must be a certain numbness to being in the midst of such a practice all the time. It allowed him to keep his rage on the inside, to contain it. If Lance had been keeping such a thing inside him, he thought it would have torn him apart, from the inside out.

But when he really thought about it, maybe Keith’s rage _was_ destroying him from the inside out.

More prisoners went by, and the people around them bid, going higher and higher until the person’s freedom was sold for the convenience of someone else.

As each person was sold, Lance could see Keith losing hope of seeing Shiro. He looked more uncertain with each person, his shoulders slumping inward a bit.

“And last, but certainly not least,” the auctioneer said, “we have a surprise!”

The crew waited with bated breath, peering over the audience at the stage in anticipation. Keith clutched Lance’s hand.

“Drumroll please!” The auctioneer called. A musician off to the side obeyed the order and a drum banged loudly. All attention was on the stage.

Two guards walked out, holding a man by the arms, even though he was cuffed just like the rest of the prisoners.

The entire crew deflated immediately. The man on the stage was clearly not Shiro. He was some famous artist from somewhere, someone the rest of the audience was ecstatic to see, but not the one person they were looking for. Keith dropped Lance’s hand, pushing his way back through the furiously bidding audience towards the exit.

*

The crew had spent the rest of the day scouring the festival for any sign of their lost captain, but Shiro was nowhere to be found.

Hunk, Pidge, and Allura went to two more slave auctions while Keith and Lance went back to the Blade to try and find anymore possible information. Kolivan kicked them out of the base after they got into a fight with another member of the Blade who had told them to fuck off.

Lance had spent the better part of an hour reassuring Keith that everything was going to be okay when the other three came back from the auction house again. Lance didn’t even need to ask if they had found anything when he saw their dejected faces. Keith didn’t either as he slumped against the wall of the building they were next to. Lance tried to take his arm, but Keith shook him off.

“What if he’s already dead? What if I took too long to find him?” He asked, his eyes burning into Lance’s.

“We have to hope for the best.” Lance said. “Like you said, the Galran empire would never miss an opportunity to capitalize on a famous death. Altea is practically Galra’s biggest enemy, we would know if he was dead.”

Keith was shaking violently, clutching the brick wall for support.

“It will be okay. We’ll find him.” Lance said, channeling as much intention as he could. He focused on channeling calmness and love to Keith with the power of his voice.

Keith visibly relaxed, inhaling deeply. He looked at Lance again, sending him a grateful look as he caught his breath. This time when Lance tried to take his arm, he didn’t push him away.

At Hunk’s suggestion, the crew decided to go back to the ship for dinner.

*

They had gone back out to the festival for a few hours after dinner, but as the night progressed, the townspeople got steadily more intoxicated and whatever bits of information they found got more unreliable. Eventually the people just started screaming "Kral Zera!" and cheering. When Lance asked what it was about, Keith told him that it was the official name of the coronation ceremony in Galra, and that it was an official holiday for most Galrans, which meant that this was the most sober they'd be for the enitre event.

Now Lance was leaning over the rail of the _Red Lion_ that was facing the ocean, watching the waves come in and fade out. At some point, Keith materialized at his side and they stood in silence for a few minutes, watching the blue of night swallow the last red streaks of the sunset.

Lance looked sideways at Keith, who was still staring ahead at the place where the sun had been a moment before. He looked lost in his thoughts, forlorn and pitiful.

Lance didn’t like that look on his face.

He bumped Keith with his shoulder, who huffed in his face as a response. Lance did it again, this time wiggling underneath Keith’s crossed arms until he had created a spot for himself between them. He grinned cheekily. Keith sighed again before a small smile cracked across his face like the first light of day.

“Race you up to the crow’s nest?” He asked.

“You can try, fish boy,” Keith started, but Lance was already gone, leaping from his arms and onto the net attached to the main mast. “Hey, no fair!” Keith called.

Lance could hear the grin in his voice and he chortled a response. “Try and keep up, land walker!”

He could feel the net sway underneath him as Keith launched himself onto it at full speed.

He started climbing faster, using his hands to pull himself upwards. Suddenly, a hand shot up and grabbed his ankle. Lance shrieked, both out of fear as he swayed on the ropes and joy as he realized how quickly Keith had caught up with him.

Keith pulled himself up next to Lance using Lance’s body.

“Shh,” he laughed, “you’ll wake the rest of the crew,”

Lance made a face and stuck out his tongue. Keith face went serious for a moment, and he leaned in like he was going to kiss Lance.

Eager to reciprocate, Lance also leaned forward, just about to bite Keith’s lip, but suddenly, Keith pushed down his head, and scaled the net to the top, escaping through the hole into the crow’s nest.

“Hey!” Lance cried indignantly.

He could hear Keith laughing hard as he finished climbing up into the crow’s nest. It was a beautiful sound, rich and loud, straight from Keith’s chest. But he wasn’t prepared to see it.

Keith’s smile was like a new dawn and Lance felt his entire body from his heart to his toes start to warm up.

Lance fought to calm his beating heart and put on his best, cheekiest grin.

“You owe me a kiss,”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Keith said, feigning sincerity. “Let me pay you then.”

He leaned in and actually kissed him this time, his lips soft and sweet against Lance’s. Lance savored every moment before they pulled away to settle comfortably next to one another.

They could see the lights of the festival from the crow’s nest, little paper lanterns peppering the streets in the darkness. With the crowds of the day gone, Lance realized how beautiful the town of Winturn actually was.

“Do you want to go?” Keith asked, breaking the easy silence.

“What?” Lance asked, turning to him in surprise. Keith had also turned to look at him, his expression soft and vulnerable. It wasn’t one he wore often, but Lance didn’t hate it. “You want to go to a Galran coronation ceremony?”

“No,” Keith corrected. “I want to go to the festival part of a Galran coronation ceremony where everyone gets stupidly drunk and has a great time. I haven’t been to one in years, and,” He trailed off.

“And?” Lance prompted.

“I kind of want you to see it.” Keith said slowly. He looked from the crow’s nest over the city. “The _Red Lion_ is my home now, but this was my home once.”

Lance looked over the city again. It looked so different in the night time. The edges were softer, lit by the warmth of the fires. The people were fewer, but the sound of laughter rang out, all the way to the port and in the darkness, Lance found all his worries seeping away like water after a rainstorm. In this moment, they didn’t have to worry about Shiro, or the auction house, or Keith’s curse, or Lance’s own home.

He wanted to see Keith’s former home too. He wanted to imagine Keith when he was little, wrapped in a thick cloak, running through the city streets under a beautiful sunset sky. He wanted to see the things Keith saw, know the things Keith liked.

“Okay.” He decided. “Let’s go.”

The boys climbed down the mast and went to the captain’s quarters to put their disguises back on. Coran’s chest of disguises had been temporarily put there while they needed it.

“Oh hey, we’ll need these.” Keith said, handing Lance something as he finished pulling on his cloak.

Lance turned it over in his hand. “What is this?”

“At night, the entire festival basically becomes a masquerade.” Keith explained. “It’s a sort of party where everyone covers their faces with masks. Works to our advantage, right?”

Lance fingered the silver veins of his mask that spiralled all around the holes for his eyes. When he put it on the mask was just long enough to cover the top of his markings. Keith had already put his mask on, and while it’s design wasn’t as complicated as Lance’s, it was just as beautiful. It covered more of his face under one eye and traveled over the bridge of his nose, black swirling into white, his eyes ringed in gold and black with painted white eyelashes.

“How do I look?” Lance asked, twirling to make his cape swirl around his legs.

Keith dragged him in for a kiss as an answer.

Making their way off the ship was surprisingly easy because the halls of the _Red Lion_ were silent. Usually someone was wandering the halls, but everyone seemed to have turned in early or was squirreled away somewhere else. Lance was a little relieved that they wouldn’t have to explain what they were doing to the crew, he wasn’t sure he quite had the words for it.

The night encompassed the earth, hiding the faces of the people even better than their masks did, but as the boys walked through the streets, the atmosphere was light and warm. Keith and Lance made idle conversation, where Keith would point out his favorite festival foods and Lance would tell him if he had some sort of equivalent back home. Winturn was even colder at night, so Keith surprised Lance by pulling out a bag of Galran drachma and buying two cups of hot chocolate. Lance went to take a sip and the drink bit his tongue. He cried out, reeling away from the cup. Keith steadied his hand before he spilled the hot beverage.

“You have to get it to cool a little before he drink it,” Keith explained, grinning at Lance’s blunder.

He watched as Keith blew on the drink, his lips puckering over the surface.

He mimicked the effort and Keith laughed when he saw Lance eyeing him over the edge of his hot chocolate.

“It should be cool enough now. You can drink it.”

They each lifted their cups to their lips and as Lance took a sip, his eyes widened. Instead of bitterly biting his tongue, the drink was now sweet and warm.

“This is really good!”

“I’m glad you like it, but don’t drink it all in one go,” Keith laughed.

Cups in hand, they wandered from stall to stall, where vendors were selling little trinkets. Lance was just as fascinated by them as Pidge had been earlier, although he suspected for different reasons. He played with every children’s toy they came across, including a little stick that caught a ball in a cup and a music box with a melodic lullaby inside.

Somewhere along the way, Lance and Keith had started walking hand in hand.

The end of the road led into the town square. The square was lined by torches and paper lanterns, and there was a six piece orchestra playing on a stage in the center of it.

Around the stage, the townspeople danced, casting shadows across the square, the masks hiding their faces from everyone on the outside.

Keith’s eyes were crinkled in the corner as he watched, an easy smile twitching at his lips. Lance tugged on his sleeve with his free hand to call his attention.

“May I have this dance?” He asked.

“You may,” Keith said, after a moment of pretending to think about it.

Lance dragged him into the square and they clasped both of their hands together. Keith looked around the circle of dancers, his shoulders drawn in a tight line.

“Relax, Captain. You’re in good hands.” Lance said, leaning forward to Keith’s ear. Keith shivered at the breath in his ear, but his shoulders successfully slumped into something a little gentler.

“I _am_ relaxed,” Keith replied, making a face.

Lance smirked. “If you say so, Capt’n.”

Keith dragged him by the fabric of his cloak, forcing him to sway left with him. “Stop that.”

Lance’s shit-eating grin got even bigger. “Stop what, Capt’n?”

Keith made a noise of disgust at the back of his throat.

Lance took the lead again, but they both stepped in time to the music. Their cloaks swirled around as Lance twirled Keith, the red inside of Keith’s cloak showing as it turned upwards.

“How do you even know how to dance this well?” Keith complained. “You’re a freaking merman.”

Lance shrugged, a lilt to his voice. “I just go with the feeling in my feet. They’re not as useful as tails, but they _are_ pretty fun.”

They danced into the inner circle of dancers, their shadows flickering on the stone ground and mingling with other dancers shadows. Looking at their shadow, it was almost like they were one being.

Spectators clapped along to the beat and cheered when someone twirled particularly well, but Lance tuned it all out. All he could hear was the faint sounds of the orchestra in the background, but Keith’s eyes were so much louder than that, like a giant wave crashing against the shore.

Through the slits in the mask, Lance could see how Keith’s eyes shone, like a fire was lit behind the surface of them. Looking at the way Keith was grinning, he could imagine the laughter lines around his eyes and he wanted to sear that image into his memory.

Keith latched onto his hands tighter as Lance dipped him, both of them snorting in laughter as Keith tried to keep his balance. Lance added some moves where he wiggled his hips, which had the intended effect as Keith continued to laugh. Keith’s hands are on Lance’s hips and Lance is very conscious of it. They spun around the square, a dancing whirlwind that couldn’t be stopped.

As much as Lance was thinking about Keith, he could tell Keith was feeling the same way, from the way that his fingers dug into Lance and his eyes never broke away. Every time Lance laughed, his eyes would travel downwards and become glued to Lance’s lips. He was just as stuck in this moment as Lance was.

Keith twirled Lance, who fought off his surprise until he realized they were no longer part of the main circle of dancers, but rather on the sidelines. Keith twirled him again and laughed as he grabbed onto Keith’s cloak for support. Seeing Keith laugh made Lance laugh, so they were soon a giggling mess. Lance wasn’t sure who initiated it, but they were soon dragging each other down the street, away from the square laughing.

Lance pulled Keith into an empty alleyway, just barely lit by a nearby paper lantern. Keith dragged him to his chest, crushing his lips with a kiss. This wasn’t gentle or hesitant like their kisses before, it was eager and wanting, desperate and passionate.

Lance wanted more, needed more. He kissed him back, just as hard, grinding his lips into Keith’s. Keith opened his mouth in response and Lance slipped his tongue in. Keith made an involuntary noise that Lance wanted to hear again.

The part of Keith’s mask that covered the bridge of his nose kept scratching against Lance’s face, so he pulled away to pry it off his face. Huffing for breath, Keith followed suit, allowing one hand to linger on Lance’s face.

They kissed again, sloppily at first, before pulling back and going for it again to make it a little neater. Lance could practically taste the hot chocolate on Keith’s tongue, sweet with a hint of bitter, and it was just as warm.

Keith bunched his hands in Lance’s cloak, dragging him closer and closer until there’s no room between them, no room between Keith and the wall, no room between their mouths. They occupied so much space, and yet none at all. There was nothing else except for them.

Everything for Lance had tunnel visioned. The sounds of the orchestra, of people laughing, of alcoholic glasses clinking has all faded, swallowed by the night. Even through the cloak, Lance had been a bit cold in the chilly temperature of the night, and while dancing, he had worked up a nice sweat, but now he couldn’t notice anything other than the warmth of their bodies pressed together.

In this nothingness, Lance was overstimulating on everything about Keith. The smell of salt on his skin, the fluttering of his eyelashes against the red of his cheeks, the feeling of his heartbeat, pounding away beneath his chest.

It was like a wave had crashed over him and woken him from a deep slumber. Keith and he had kissed before, multiple times, but this was different. This was more. For once in his life, Lance is drowning. He is the sailor dragged to sea by the lull of a siren. He’s went to drink in everything Keith had to offer and now he’s drowning, gasping for air in a sea of lust and passion. He’s overtaken, pushed into the sea, and dragged down by the claws of Keith’s feelings. Keith will consume him just as a siren does, and oddly enough Lance was okay with that.

If this is what drowning was like, he would sacrifice his gills again and again.

*

Eventually, the two had forced themselves away from the alleyway, because Keith was convinced that nothing good was going to come if they didn’t practice some self-restraint, whatever that meant.

They snagged a few last minute kisses in between trying to catch their breath, before Lance pushed him away to actually do that. He straightened his rumpled cloak as best as he could, trying to make it seem like he hadn’t just had the most intense make out session of his life in an abandoned alleyway. Meanwhile, Keith did nothing to fix his mussed hair.

“Should we head back to the ship?” Lance asked, judging the shifting colors of the sky. If they headed back now, they could probably snag a few hours of sleep and some cuddle time.

Keith was watching two young boys playing with wooden swords, a distant look in his eyes broken as he realized Lance was talking to him.

“Can we go see one last place? There’s someone I want you to meet.”

Consider Lance’s curiosity peaked. “Sure,” he said.

He followed Keith back the way they had come, but instead of taking the path back to the square, Keith branched off the main path, down a little row of small businesses. Most of the windows were dark because of the time of day and so that the owners could enjoy the coronation ceremony.

A heated yellow light poured out of the window panes of a single business. The sign above the door told Lance that it was a blacksmith’s shop.

Keith pushed open the door and a little bell rang above them. A man appeared from the back room, sporting a scruffy beard and a heavy apron.

“What can I help you with- Keith?”

Keith flashed a small smile. “Hello, Thace.”

Thace made a face that Lance couldn’t read, but before he could blink Thace was striding across the room and he swept Keith up in a hug.

“I didn’t think I’d ever see your face in this country again.”

Keith patted Thace on the back as he released him. “And as far as anyone else knows, you haven’t.”

Thace raised an eyebrow at him. “Here on official business? What is that these days?”

“Officially, pirate.” Keith said with a shrug. “I’m just here looking for a friend though.”

Thace nodded. “Did you check in with the Blade?”

Keith scowled. “Of course. They weren’t much help.”

Thace shrugged. “Sometimes that’s just the way. Who’s your friend?”

Lance and Keith looked at each other before quickly looking away. Lance was pretty sure his cheeks were bright red. Instead of thinking about that, he extended a hand to Thace.

“I’m Lance. Nice to meet you,”

“Thace, pleasure’s mine.”

“Thace is another member of the Blade,” Keith explained. “He makes all the weaponry, including my sword and my knife. He’s kind of a father figure to me.”

Thace huffed a reply, clearly a little embarrassed. “I know you didn’t just bring your _friend_ to meet me, so what do you want?”

Now it was Keith’s turn to look a little embarrassed, but he dismissed it with a cough. “I want to know what Lotor’s been up to. He’s sent multiple generals after me.”

“Wait, why would he know what Lotor’s up to?” Lance asked, wrinkling his nose. Then he shot a glance at Thace. “No offense, sir.”

“None taken. Since you know about the Blade, you must be pretty trustworthy, so I guess I can trust you with this too. I make all the weaponry, for both the Blade and the castle. It allows the Blade to have an ear on the inside, especially about things revolving warfare.” He looked again at Keith. “Lotor really wants you back home. Every time you escape one of his generals, he gets increasingly frustrated.”

“But why?” Keith asked. “No one came after me right after I escaped. Did it take them this long to find me?”

Thace pondered that for a moment. “I don’t think so. You’re pretty well known for a pirate. There were rumors circulating the castle staff only a month or so after you left, but no one knew for sure. I can’t imagine Lotor missed those whisperings though. You know he doesn’t miss much.”

“Unfortunately.” Keith said grimly.

“After your escape, Zaron issued a notice that went out to all soldiers that called for you to be brought back dead or alive,” Thace continued. “But recently, Lotor told all the soldiers that you were to be brought back alive.”

Keith frowned. “I really don’t know what he wants with me. I shouldn’t be a threat to him, especially now.”

“His desire to find you seemed to be reinvigorated a few weeks ago, after some men reported seeing you,” Thace said. “I honestly don’t have much more information than that.”

Keith nodded. “Thanks anyway. I’m glad we got to see you again before we leave in a day or two.”

“Same here, stay safe.” Thace said, drawing Keith into a hug again.

“Same for you, careful with that ear on the ground.” Keith said into Thace’s chest.

“It was really nice to meet you,” Thace said to Lance as they made their way to the door. “I’m sorry we didn’t have more time to chat. Maybe next time we’ll meet under better circumstances.”

“That would be really nice, sir.” Lance replied. He was surprised to know that he meant it.

As they made their way back to the docks, Lance noticed that Keith seemed to be a bit more easy-going now. His shoulders were relaxed, his pace an amble, the crease in his brow evened out and his normal scowl replaced with a small smile.

“How did you meet Thace?” Lance asked.

“He mentored me in fighting,” Keith explained. “Then he introduced me to the Blade. He probably took better care of me in my youth than my actual father did.”

Lance hummed. “He seems nice. Like the fatherly type.”

“He is,” Keith agreed. “I don’t know why he never settled down with a family. Seems just as interesting as being a spy if you ask me.”

Lance laughed. “I don’t know, I think my siblings would think being a spy was cooler.”

Keith looked like he was about to defend his point when a voice cut him off from behind them.

“Fancy meeting you here, Keith.” A voice sneered. Keith froze immediately, his expression wiped of all emotion. In the briefest of seconds, but in what felt like a moment frozen in time, Lance swore he could see all the life drain from Keith’s beautiful, seductive eyes. Now they were just dull blackened circles painted on his face.

The boys turned around and before them stood a tall young man with an elegant face and long white hair that almost gave Allura’s a run for her money. He was wearing casual clothes, except they were clearly more expensive than anyone should spend on ‘casual’ clothes. The only exception to that was the black chest plate he wore, accented with blue. Around his shoulders a regal purple cape hung, and it was covered in delicate hand embroidery. In his hand was an extravagant silver mask that he had just removed.

Lance glanced over at Keith, looking for answers, but Keith looked like he had just been struck by lightning at sea.

“I didn’t think you’d be able to come celebrate with us, based on what Acxa said.” the man continued, his lips curving upwards cruelly. “It means the world that you’d drop by during the Kral Zera.”

Now it was Lance’s turn to be struck by lightning at sea. His mouth dropped open.

“Lotor?” He asked, before he could think better of it.

The Galran prince turned to him, frowning slightly at being addressed so informally.

“Who do you think you- oh.” Lotor’s eyes widened and his lips turned upwards again. “I know who _you_ are.” He turned back to Keith. “Were you going to introduce me to your little _friend_ , hm?”

Keith made a sound that if Lance didn’t know any better sounded a lot like a whimper. He pushed Lance back with one hand and coughed, finding his voice again.

“I didn’t come here for you.”

Lotor quirked an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Well, that much is obvious. The real question is why are you here?”

Keith fell silent, but he didn’t break eye contact with Lotor. Every part of Lance was screaming to flee. He wanted to grab Keith by the arm and drag him back to the ship, cut loose and go back to the sea. The sea was safe, the sea was free. The sea didn’t make Keith look so… small.

But when Lance appraised Lotor again, he noticed that hidden under his cloak was a large broadsword that his hand was currently on. The message was clear, if either of them made a move, he would cut them down. Lance had no doubts that he had guards ready to jump them at his word as well. He looked around desperately, wanting nothing more than an exit.

“Why are you here?” Keith asked finally.

“It’s time for the coronation ceremony, I should at least get to enjoy the festivities! It’s a bit quieter at this time of night, makes it safer.” Lotor explained.

Funny, how they had thought the same thing, only a little while earlier.

“Well, it makes no difference why you boys are here. The point is that you are, so we might as well celebrate! It’s not customary for the person of honor to pay, but since you boys have traveled so far, drinks are on me.”

Lance’s stomach lurched. He didn’t want to be here now, nevermind stuck in a room with Lotor while intoxicated. Keith’s face was pale and ill-looking at the mere suggestion.

Lotor spun on his heel, humming a little song to himself. He spared them only one glance, which kicked Keith into motion. He didn’t look at Lance as he followed Lotor into the dark of the night.

*

Lotor led them to a bar on the corner of the street. When they entered, he made a jerking motion with his hand, and the few people in the bar threw their coin on the table and left. Now the bar was empty except for the three of them and the bartender. It was an eerie, uncomfortable atmosphere for everyone except Lotor, who quickly made himself at home.

He strode up to the bar, all gusto and flair. The bartender had gone wide eyed in the middle of wiping down a glass and looked like there was something very large stuck in her throat.

“H-how can I help you, your majesty?” She stuttered.

“A cocktail for me, whatever these two fellows would like.” Lotor said, with a dismissive wave of his hand. He glanced at the boys with a cordial smile. “Drinks on me.”

Keith and Lance exchanged a look before declining politely. The bartender ran off to make Lotor’s drink and get her wits about her.

Lotor frowned at Keith. “You’re never any fun. Here I am, graciously offering you free drinks as a celebration of your return and you refuse them.”

“I think we both know that my return is never something you would celebrate.” Keith said evenly.

“Hmm, that’s fair,” Lotor agreed. His eyes brightened as the bartender came back with his drink. He watched as she cut a slice of lime to adorn his glass. Keith sat down on the bar stool next to him, so Lance sat on Keith’s other side.

“Why have you been looking for me?” Keith asked.

“Why wouldn’t I be looking for you? You’re so dear and useful to me after all. Despite all your shortcomings, you do make a good general.”

“I heard that until recently, I was wanted dead or alive. What’s with the sudden change of heart?”

Lotor leaned on the bar, pushing his hair over his shoulder. He swirled his honey sweet colored drink for a minute before replying.

“Haven’t you heard the real news? Your father’s very ill. He might die any day now. You wouldn’t be able to see him before he dies if you die first.” Lotor smiled, all razors and sharp edges.

Keith clutched the side of the bar. “That’s not the reason.” He snapped. The bartender, who had been trying to keep herself busy by cleaning glasses in her almost empty bar, flinched.

“Now, now,” Lotor chided. “Don’t get testy. Who’s to say that isn’t the reason?”

“You don’t care about him any more than I do. That crap doesn’t matter and you know it.”

The door of the bar blew open with immense force. Keith and Lance swung around to see who had entered, but Lotor didn’t move. He took a sip of his cocktail.

A large woman, taller than anyone Lance had ever seen before entered the room, flanked by the three Galra generals that he had met previously. When Ezor saw him, she blew him a kiss.

The four Galran generals, in full armor, lined up in front of Lotor.

“You requested our presence, sir?” Acxa said. “I wasn’t expecting Keith to be here.”

“Neither was I, but it’s quite a joyous surprise, isn’t it?”

The tone of voice he was using made shivers run down Lance’s spine. Keith looked just as shaken. This was bad. They were very badly outnumbered and to make matters worse, no one on the crew had any idea of where they were.

“What is this?” Keith asked, his voice shot cold.

“What do you mean?” Lotor asked, a glint in his eye. “I thought a reunion among friends would be welcome.”

Keith growled, clenching his jaw. Acxa stepped forward, reaching out to put an arm on Keith’s shoulder. When he glared at her, she dropped it back down to her side.

“Keith, we don’t want a fight. There’s more going on then you could possibly understand.”

“I don’t want to understand,” Keith replied. “It’s not my problem. Galra isn’t my home anymore.”

“But it could be.” Acxa said. “We’ll take down the ransom and reinstate you to your status. We need your help.”

Keith snorted. “Your jackass prince would never allow that to happen.”

“Watch it!” The large general said, her voice just as harsh as Lance was sure she was on the battlefield. “Or I’ll crack your skull open.”

Lotor frowned at Keith. “Stand down, Zethrid. Keith, we’re trying to make an exchange, let’s be civil.”

Keith raised his eyebrows. “An exchange?”

“Your status will be reinstated if you give us your mermaid.”

The air in the room seemed to freeze as Keith and Lance processed that. Lance felt his whole body go numb, he could faintly hear Keith asking why, but everything sounded a million miles away. Suddenly the warmth of Keith’s palm was on his bare skin, dragging him back into the room.

“-what makes you think I want to have my status reinstated?” Keith was asking.

Lance could see the patience thinning in Lotor’s eyes. He had almost drank all of his cocktail at this point. He drummed his fingers on the table. Slowly, his smirk grew across his face again.

“Perhaps there’s something else you want then?” A glint shone in his eye. “Like information on a certain Altean captain, perhaps?”

Both boys froze, and Lance could feel Keith stiffen next to him. “What do you know about that?”

Lotor shrugged nonchalantly. “Not much. Just that the man you stole from our prison is back in it again. I figured you might be interested.”

Keith stood up from his seat abruptly, his hands clenched into fists. In a flash, he had pulled out his knife.

“Lotor, I swear-”

The generals materialized around him instantly. The buff woman, Zethrid, grabbed him by the back of his shirt, forcing him to drop his knife and preventing him from lunging at the prince, who was calmly sipping the last of his cocktail. Acxa had her gun drawn and pointed at him. Ezor placed a well manicured hand on Lance’s shoulder, and he tried not to shake under her touch.

“You son of a bitch,” Keith seethed. “You’re such a son of a bitch.”

“Maybe so,” Lotor agreed. “But so are you. This could have been so simple. Could still be really. Look, I’ll even sweeten the deal. For your pet fish, I’ll give you back the captain. I don’t know if he’ll be much use to me now.”

Keith made an ugly noise at the back of his throat. He bared his teeth, straining under his restraints, trying to lunge at Lotor again. Narti stepped up to help Zethrid hold him down.

Lotor pushed him empty glass to the other side of the bar, finally standing up from his seat. He moved to Keith, dragging a hand over his cheek. Keith shuddered, but his gaze didn’t break from Lotor’s, filled with hatred.

Lotor smiled back, looking pretty pleased with himself. His gaze drifted over to where Ezor and Lance where standing.

“What do you think, pet? Wouldn’t you like to help your captain out? You must know how much this means to him.”

Lance didn’t reply, but he didn’t need to. He was sure his face said everything because yeah, he did know how much this meant to Keith. He knew.

“Lance, no,” Keith said, struggling to get out of Zethrid’s grip. “This isn’t the way to do this.”

Lance looked at him, blinking slowly. He took a deep breath. In. Out. In. Out.

“I have to do this,” He said.

Lotor’s smirk grew wider as Keith’s face fell.

Lance closed his eyes for a moment, and then took a step towards Lotor. Just as Lotor reached out to clasp Lance on the back, the pipes of the bar exploded.

The room shattered into chaos. Water sprayed everywhere, covering everyone. Neatly lined glasses shattered with the pressure. The bartender screamed and Zethrid and

Narti released Keith in shock. Acxa cried out in pain as a shard of glass struck her across the face. She dropped her gun, choosing to cradle her face instead. Ezor hurried to her side to make sure no serious damage had been done. If Keith was surprised, he recovered quickly, ducking to the ground to grab his knife.

Lance tried to make his way to the door, but Lotor still stood in his way. His surprise had faded to anger, his hair plastered to his armor in long, wet strands.

“Don’t think you can escape me, fish.” He said, grabbing onto Lance’s arm.

Lance looked over Lotor’s shoulder to find Keith, but Keith was busy in combat with Zethrid and Narti. They were a fearsome duo, both fighting with their fists. Zethrid had a rifle strapped across her back, but with her immense body size and strength, it was clear she didn’t need it. Keith ducked and dodged as a flurry of blows came at him.

“I tried to play nice, but your captain can’t save you now,” Lotor snarled. “You’re coming with us.”

Lance channeled as much intention into his voice as possible. “No, I’m not. Release me.”

Lotor’s eyes clouded over for a moment, and although he didn’t release Lance, his grip weakened significantly, enough for Lance to shrug himself loose.

“Lotor!” Keith called. Some of the haze in Lotor’s eyes cleared as he turned around to look at Keith. “Let him go!”

Now it was Lance’s turn to be surprised. With his dagger pressed to her throat, Keith held Narti in a chokehold. Lance could see Zethrid shaking in anger, wanting to rush in to save her comrade, but Keith’s eyes kept darting her way and every time she moved, he dug the knife a little more into Narti’s throat.

“We’re both walking out of here. If anyone tries to stop us, she gets it!” Keith said, shaking his knife a little.

Lance scooted around Lotor, who didn’t move to stop him. He merely glowered at Keith, but it didn’t have quite the same effect when he was sopping wet and his hair was dripping water onto the floorboards of the bar.

With Keith still holding Narti, they darted out of the bar, back into the town. The first signs of daybreak were showing up, but it was just dark enough for them to pull Narti along without anyone suspecting anything. That, or everyone was too drunk from last night’s festivities to care.

They ran in silence until they got to where the _Red Lion_ was docked. Their ship remained just the way they had left it, heavily disguised and quiet as the occupants aboard it slept.

Keith turned around, knife to Narti’s vital spots again as he surveyed the deck. Acxa and Zethrid came out of the shadows behind them. Lance wasn’t sure how someone as large as Zethrid managed to move so stealthily, but somehow she did. Acxa had an angry red streak across her cheek where the glass had struck her, but it wasn’t bleeding as much as it had been.

There was no sign of Lotor anywhere, so Lance assumed he must have sulked off, Ezor presumably accompanying him.

“We let you both go,” Acxa said. “Release her.”

Keith blinked at the two generals.

“Here’s an exchange for you. Her for Shiro. If he dies, she dies too.”

Acxa opened her mouth in protest and Zethrid drew her rifle.

“Go tell Lotor,” Lance said, forcing intention into his voice. He glanced over at Narti, who hadn’t said anything, couldn’t say anything. Her fingers dug into Keith’s arm.

“Go tell Lotor,” Lance repeated, a bit more forcefully this time.

Acxa and Zethrid’s eyes glazed over, Zethrid’s rifle going limp in her arms. Without another word, they disappeared into the shadows again, traveling back the way they had come to find their leader.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave your thoughts, comments, and feelings for me below! (I'm secretly a dragon and I horde these things like gold)  
> Meanwhile, I hope you all have a lovely day!
> 
>  
> 
> Come chat at my tumblr: [celestial-caster](https://celestial-caster.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Or go reblog the great art throughout this fic from: [](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/saltwater-paladin)


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The _Red Lion_ has acquired a new member!? I don't think everyone was on board with that decision...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's this? A chapter? woah 
> 
> And an exact number of chapters? WOAH
> 
> I'm going to see Love, Simon tomorrow with some friends, so I wanted to make sure this chapter went up this weekend. My gay heart is already singing

“What were you thinking?” Allura exclaimed.  


Keith sighed, slouching into himself a bit.  


The crew of the _Red Lion_ had woken up slowly at first, and then all at once as they realized that they had gained a mouth to feed. Specifically the mouth of a Galran general.  


Allura had insisted upon a crew meeting in the galley. Now Keith was surrounded by several angry and confused faces.  


“I was thinking that we could save Shiro by holding her hostage!” Keith snapped back. “We’re on equal ground now.”  


Coran regarded Keith a bit sadly. “I don’t know that Lotor cares for any of his generals like that.”  


“He does,” Keith insisted. “His generals are the only people he trusts with anything.” He frowns. “It would have been better if we had taken Acxa though, since she’s his right-hand woman.”  


Lance seemed to pale at the suggestion. “Holding Narti is bad enough.”  


Keith turned to him. “Lotor set you free because I held Narti hostage!”  


“You promised to let her go,” Lance pointed out.  


Keith chewed on his bottom lip. “I need to ensure Shiro’s safety. If I don’t, they’ll kill him.”  


“They might kill him anyway,” Pidge muttered.  


“Or maybe not,” Hunk conceded, wringing his fingers together nervously. “They want to lure you in, right? They know keeping Shiro alive is the only way to do that.”  


“It’s not a risk I can take.” Keith said. “Having Narti here is extra insurance.”  


The crew members exchanged looks as Allura dismissed the meeting. Keith watched as they moved on to their respective tasks, tension laying heavy in the air. He didn’t understand why everyone couldn’t see that this small obstacle was a benefit to saving Shiro.  


He didn’t _want_ to have Narti aboard the _Red Lion_. It felt like his past was chasing after him, contaminating the purity of the ship he had begun to think of as home.  


But if holding Narti hostage aboard the _Red Lion_ was what it took to bring Shiro back to this home he had created, so be it.  


*  


Hurt and anger boiled inside Lance’s stomach as top heat, boiling upwards towards his chest. He didn’t understand why Keith didn’t see this as a problem. They had just taken someone _hostage_.  


They were holding someone _prisoner_ right now.  


The very thought made Lance’s stomach turn over, threatening to return the contents of the food he had eaten the previous day.  


It wasn’t that the _Red Lion_ was going to treat Narti badly. Lance knew they weren’t. For the most part, they would ignore her, but they would make sure she was fed and had water.  


But Lance couldn’t stop thinking about what it was like when he had first come aboard. He had thought himself a prisoner and he had never felt so confused and alone. He had missed home with a fever.  


Narti was an actual prisoner aboard their ship, not someone taken aboard because of injury and home invasion, but Lance still understood the feelings someone might have.  


When Lance and Keith had gotten aboard the ship, Keith had dragged Narti into a dark secluded room below deck that the crew never used, mostly because they preferred to be in the presence of each other and simply had no use for the room. More often than not, the room went as storage of some kind.  


Keith had chained Narti to a supporting beam, tying the knot tight near her wrists. Narti had stopped fighting it, her blind eyes staring unseeingly into the distance, her voice muted. The cat that always followed her was nowhere to be seen and the more Lance thought about her situation, the angrier he got.  


He tried to distract himself by doing anything he could find. He watched Pidge fiddle around with her music capturing device, talked with Coran in the med bay, and helped 

Hunk in the kitchen but he found that his mind kept returning to the storage room, hidden away inside the _Red Lion_.  


Keith was around too, but Lance didn’t talk to him. He didn’t think he could bare to. His anger flowed beneath his skin, threatening to spill outwards at any moment. It wasn’t like he couldn’t understand Keith’s point of view, it was just driving him mad because he could also see the other side too.  


Besides that, he didn’t want to have a Galran soldier aboard. His hands kept shaking and there was nothing he could do to stop them, even after he told himself that it was fine and he was safe. He clamped them together, but then his hands just shook in unison.  


Even more than the fact that they had a Galran soldier aboard, Lance couldn’t stop thinking of her as a prisoner, his mind screaming at him to help her. And part of that instinct made him a little mad too.  


Hunk had set him about the task of cleaning the dishes, but he seemed to sense that something was off.  


“Are you okay?” He questioned.  


“Fine.” Lance replied, channeling his aggression into the rag he was using to clean the inside of a cup.  


“Lance, we can talk about this. I know you’re upset. It’s not good to keep those feelings bottled up inside.”  


Lance stopped cleaning and looked up to the ceiling before meeting Hunk’s eyes. Hunk had put down the rag he was using, watching his friend carefully.  


Lance wrinkled his nose. “It’s just that he didn’t even ask me! He just took her hostage, without even a second thought! There was no warning, no ‘hey Lance, we’re just going to take this woman away from her home, her job, and her friends.’ Nope. None of that.” He waved his rag around in emphasis of his frustration.  


Hunk made a noise of sympathy. “I don’t really agree with this either, but I wasn’t there. I’m sure Keith did what he thought would keep everyone safe.”  


“I had a handle on the situation.” Lance grumbled. “Or I almost did, anyway.”  


“Yeah, but there was nothing you could do for Shiro.” Hunk pointed out.  


Lance slumped on the counter. “I know. I know that’s what this is really about. But I just can’t help but feel there had to be some other way to do this. I don’t like the idea of taking prisoners.”  


“Me either,” Hunk agreed. “I don’t have the personal connection that you do, but it doesn’t sit well with me.”  


“What do we do?”  


Hunk shrugged. “Nothing. I don’t like it, but the deed is done. I think we need to trust that Keith knows what he’s doing now.”  


Lance thought about that while he finished cleaning up his pile of the dishes. He _did_ trust Keith. He would easily trust Keith with his life now. But even still his thoughts lingered on the Galran general they had locked away in the other room.  


Eventually, he gave up trying to distract himself with other tasks and he gave in. A plan formulated in his head and although he tried to talk himself out of it, the effort was futile. Hunk had moved onto chopping up carrots, his brow knitted together, his face covered in sweat. The galley was often one of the hottest parts of the ship, but the day itself was sweltering today.  


“Can I have a glass of water?” Lance asked.  


Hunk regarded Lance for a moment, his eyes scanning Lance’s face.  


“Is this for the Galran general?”  


Lance nodded mutely. Hunk sighed and took one of the glasses they had just cleaned. He poured some clean water into it and then handed it to Lance.  


“Be careful.” he said.  


Lance nodded silently, taking the glass.  


When he stepped into the room, it took a minute for his eyes adjust to the light. Narti was exactly where they had left her in the morning, tied to the wall. She was hunched inwards, perhaps dozing off quietly. When she heard Lance enter the room, she straightened. She had the poise of a well trained soldier, straight back, shoulders held up, unseeing gaze straightforward and daunting.  


“Hello,” Lance said quietly.  


Narti couldn’t reply, but her body language didn’t show any signs of distress, so Lance took that as a good sign.  


“I brought you some water,” Lance said.  


Narti pulled at the rope that bound her wrists to show how limited her range of movement was.  


“I’m sorry about that,” Lance responded.  


Narti snorted in amusement.  


Lance stepped closer to the Galran general until he was only about a foot away from her. She waited patiently as he settled down in front of her. As he raised the glass of water to her lips, his hands shook. He cursed his hands and fought to make them still.  


She seemed to sniff the water first, and then deeming it clean, drank it greedily. Lance wondered if anyone else had thought to bring her some water. It was a hot day, and being stuck in this stuffy room probably was no help.  


When she was done, he left the room, taking the empty cup back to the galley.  


*  


Over the course of the day, Lance visited Narti a few more times. He went a little later with another glass of water and once with Hunk to give her some dinner. Each time, he watched the general closely.  


Despite being faced with her captors, she seemed to understand that they weren’t going to do anything to her. She always remained completely calm, listening to the voices around her. Every time they brought her something, she took it like it was going to be the last thing she ever got.  


Lance felt increasingly bad that she couldn’t even move to feed herself. He could never imagine sitting in the same spot for an entire day, her joints must be so stiff. Just thinking about it made his legs hurt, and he bounced from leg to leg, trying to shake out the tension.  


*  


He found Keith steering the _Red Lion_ , staring absentmindedly into the ocean, his eyes drifting along the horizon.  


“Keith,” he said.  


Keith startled a bit before turning around to face Lance, keeping one hand firmly on the steering wheel.  


“I thought you weren’t talking to me,” he said with no malice in his voice.  


Lance cast his eyes towards Keith’s boots. He hadn’t spoken to Keith at all since Allura had called the crew to the meeting in regards to what they should do about Narti.  


“I know and I’m sorry, but we need to talk.”  


Keith hummed, turning back to the wheel. “What is it?”  


“I think you should loosen Narti’s bonds.”  


Keith’s eyebrows raised, his muscles going tense.  


“Why?”  


Lance remained silent.  


“I know you’ve been visiting her all day,” Keith said. “I think you’re making a mistake.”  


“A mistake?” Lance asked.  


“Interacting with her is going to have consequences. I know we can’t neglect her, but you should really limit any interaction you have to make. She’s playing with you.”  


“How is she playing with me? She’s blind, mute, and tied to a wall.”  


Keith shot a warning look at him. “Don’t underestimate Narti. She’s one of Lotor’s generals for a reason. Her cat acts as her eyes, but her hearing is incredibly good. She could function on that alone. You’ve already seen her fists in motion, but sometimes silence is a powerful weapon too.”  


“Where do you think her cat went? I haven’t seen him since we took her.”  


Keith shook his head. “I don’t know, and I don’t want to find out. That cat is nothing but trouble. The point is, I know you feel bad because she’s a prisoner, but she’s not your friend.”  


“We’re not setting her free,” Lance said hastily. “I just think we should give her one hand so she can eat and stretch. I still don’t like holding a hostage, but that would make me feel better.”  


Keith drummed his fingers on the steering wheel as he thought about it. He glanced at Lance again.  


“Okay.”  


“Really?” Lance asked, surprised. He had thought he was going to have to put up more of a fight than that.  


“Yeah. I don’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable, but we need to do what keeps us all safest. I’ll untie one hand to compromise, but there needs to be a guard posted at all times.” Keith replied.  


Lance nodded and he allowed Keith to lift a hand to his face. When the pad of Keith’s thumb fleshed over the marking under Lance’s eye, he leaned in and stole a kiss.  


Keith reciprocated it and Lance realized how much he had missed talking to Keith, even if only for a day. Despite their tumultuous beginning, they got along so well now that it was hard to believe they ever hadn’t.  


As Keith pulled away to call for Allura to take over steering, Lance watched the sun bounce off his skin and hair, brightening all of his features.  


*  


The look Narti gave Keith was a little different than the looks she gave the rest of the crew. When Lance or someone else came into the room, Narti always straightened from being hunched over, but her face was always calm and passive. When she heard Keith’s voice though, her ears twitched and her face twisted into something that Lance couldn’t read.  


“Don’t give me that look Narti.” Keith said, apparently able to read it just fine. “I did what I had to.”  


Narti made that snorting sound she had made earlier with Lance. Somehow it sounded less amused and more mocking. Keith scowled.  


“I’m going to untie one of your hands, but if you don’t behave, I’m tying it back. I’m only doing it because Lance asked me to.”  


Narti’s head turned to Lance.  


“Hey,” he said softly. He looked down at his hands. He was still wary of the general, but after the second or third time of visiting the storage room, he had gotten his hands to stop shaking.  


Having someone with him helped.  


Narti tensed as Keith’s hand brushed against her own, but she never broke away from looking in Lance’s direction. Lance had no doubt that her ears were so focused on him, she could probably hear the beating of his heart.  


When one wrist was free, Narti wiggled her fingers, stretching her hand above her head and rubbing the red sore with her chained hand. Lance brought her another glass of water and she seemed happy to be able to hold the cup herself. She drank the water a little slower.  


Keith and Lance took first shift of supervising the prisoner. They sat in silence for a while, until that got to be too much and Lance’s eyelids started feeling heavy.  


He blinked multiple times trying to stay awake. Keith shoved him lightly.  


“Go to bed, idiot, before you fall asleep on the floor.”  


Lance made a light sound of protest before he realized that at some point he had dropped his head to Keith’s shoulder and he couldn’t remember when.  


“You were up all of last night, you can’t handle a full night shift,” Keith reasoned, clearly amused. “I’ll get someone else to guard Narti and join you in a second.”  


Relenting, Lance stood up and made his way to the captain’s quarters. He wanted to get in bed with Keith and cuddle, but even in his sluggish state he knew he was too tired to hold onto his human form for the whole night.  


He shed his clothes and clambered into the tub, allowing his legs to bleed into one and the scales slowly crawled up his body to form the dark blue of his tail.  


Before Keith came in to say goodnight, he was sound asleep.  


*  


For the next two days, everything was quiet. The crew took turns watching Narti and other than that, went about their usual business.  


They had decided that the best way to go about the hostage business was to wait it out. Hopefully Lotor would decide to bring them Shiro in exchange for Narti. Keith said they would know when Lotor made up his mind. Lotor was never very subtle about his messages.  


So the _Red Lion_ floated just out of view of the city, where no one would see them and point out they were loitering, but close enough that one of the crew members could row a dinghy onto land. Everyday, two crew members traveled into town to see if they could get a scope on any news.  


Everyday, they didn’t come back with much. The festival was a week long event, leading up to the coronation ceremony, and as the week progressed the townspeople got more and more drunk, more often. The windows of time when the crew could seek out a sober person for slightly more reliable information were becoming slimmer and slimmer.  


The members of the Blade were mostly sober, but they didn’t have much helpful information, just that Lotor had been lingering around the festival, which they already knew.  


Lance wondered if it was pointless to wait. Maybe Lotor really didn’t care about his generals as much as they thought he did. He hadn’t made one move to try anything. Maybe taking Narti hostage had been for nothing after all.  


*  


Three nights after they had taken Narti, Lance was taking his turn on the night shift watching Narti. Keith wasn’t very happy about it because he claimed that he never slept as well without Lance, but Lance was insistent about taking this shift.  


Allura and Coran had taken the first night, and Pidge and Hunk the second night. They hadn’t made a rule about the night shift being two people, but everyone seemed to come to the silent conclusion that it should be.  


And so Keith followed Lance to the holding room, partially because of this imaginary buddy system, and partially because he wouldn’t sleep anyways.  


They entered the room, and Narti barely even acknowledged them now. She had mostly just taken to staring off into space over the past day or so, crowded against the wall. Coran nodded to them as they released him from his post. He yawned as he stumbled off to bed. It was already quite late, so Lance assumed that’s where the rest of the crew was already.  


Lance tried to hand a glass of water to Narti, but she ignored it, so after a minute he just placed it down next to her.  


The boys sat down in silence for a while, just watching the prisoner in front of them. She barely moved at all. Lance couldn’t even tell if she was _blinking_.  


Suddenly, Narti flopped over onto the ground next to the wall. Both boys jumped up from their seats.  


“What the hell?” Keith asked, moving towards her. She didn’t flinch as he put a hand on her.  


“She still has a pulse,” Keith said.  


Lance was about to respond when a large hand grabbed him from behind, clamping over his mouth. The only person he knew with a hand this big was Zethrid. He tried to struggle, tried to yell for Keith, but her hand prevented everything. It prevented sound from leaving and air from entering. Lance tried to suck what little air he could through his nose.  


A pair of heels sounded behind him and Lance could tell that Acxa was here too. Keith also stiffened at the sound, turning around slowly.  


When he saw Lance, his face paled.  


“Let him go, Zethrid.”  


“We don’t take orders from you anymore, Keith.” She replied. Lance struggled weakly, kicking his legs. They were so much less efficient than his tail, convenient but useless things.  


His vision was starting to go blurry, but he heard the sound of Keith unsheathing his sword.  


“How did you find us?”  


Something pounced on Lance’s shoulders, walking smoothly under Zethrid’s arm before jumping onto the floor in front of them.  


Narti’s cat smugly flicked its tail.  


“The cat got aboard the ship your crew members were taking into town everyday. She collected as much information as she could before coming back to us. Finding you and getting aboard was easy after that.” Acxa said.  


“I never liked that cat,” Keith muttered.  


“You’re not going to start liking her anytime soon,” Acxa replied.  


Lance tried to scream a warning behind Zethrid’s hand as Narti shifted behind Keith. The rope that had securely tied her to the wall had been severed by her cat and she lashed out, aiming for Keith’s legs.  


The last thing Lance saw before he blacked out was Keith’s face, a second before Narti struck his legs out from under him, realization dawning on his face as he realized he had left his back turned to one of the generals.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well, that can't be good...
> 
> Sorry this chapter is so short, I felt like this was a good place to end it. Trust me, the last chapter more than makes up for it. _It's like 18k rn my god I'm dying_
> 
> Leaving a comment adds to my lifespan <3
> 
> or come chat at my tumblr: [celestial-caster](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/celestial-caster)  
> Go reblog and love the art throughout this fic from: [saltwater-paladin](https://saltwater-paladin.tumblr.com/)


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance finds himself trapped in some unwelcome circumstances, and Keith makes decisions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the mini hiatus everyone, next chapter is the finale! It's a long one, so I hope you're looking forward to it. 
> 
> In the meantime, please enjoy chapter 15!

When Lance awoke, he struggled to remember where he was. Everything was dark and everything hurt. A bit belatedly, he realized he was in his mer form again, submerged in water. He thought for a minute that maybe he was back home, in the depths of the ocean. But, as he blinked a few times and allowed his eyes to adjust to the light, he realized that he couldn’t be more wrong. In fact, he had never been farther from his home.

Through the glass that surrounded him, he was in what looked like a dimly lit laboratory. A few Galran researchers were crowded around with clipboards, taking notes. He hissed at them, his memory of the night coming back to him in a flood. One of them dropped their clipboard, backing up several feet.

Was Keith here too? He peered through the glass, but he didn’t see the captain anywhere. Maybe they had taken him to a human prison instead.

There was a few other research pods with occupants locked inside, but Lance couldn’t tell very much about them other than that they were filled. He took a closer look at his own prison.

There wasn’t much to say, it was so cramped that his tail had to fold in half to fit. He slammed his body against the walls a few times, but they were all made of a thick glass, and as he investigated the top of the tank, he found that it was closed off with something heavy. It clearly had a latch, but it was only openable from the outside and there were no holes anywhere. After waking up fully, Lance realized that he was panting for air as his gills struggled to process the fresh water that filled the tank.

Freshwater had a particular stale taste to it, like something had rotted within it. Saltwater always felt like a living, breathing thing, something that kissed the skin rather than cutting harshly against it. Lance could already feel his scales becoming dry and itchy under the influence of the freshwater.

“The mer is awake, your majesty,” one of the researchers said.  
Lotor, wearing a set of regally designed armor and flanked by all of his generals approached the tank. As soon as Lance saw them, his ears flared and he flicked his tail angrily. It slammed into the glass, but did nothing.

“Save it,” Lotor said. “I asked nicely and you refused. This is what happens when you refuse.”

Lance growled at him, every part of his body ready to tear this man from limb to limb. Channeling all the intention he could muster, he looked straight into Lotor’s eyes.

“Let me go,”

  
“Your sirens speak won’t work here,” he smiled, rapping the glass with his knuckles. “After your little stunt last time, I had the glass charmed against it. We can still hear you, but all your magic bounces off the glass.”

Lance growled again in frustration, baring his teeth.

Ezor stroked the glass where his face was. “It’s okay!” She exclaimed, smiling at him. “If you behave, Lotor will treat you nicely!”

“I don’t want your treatment,” he snarled.

Lotor’s smile widened. “Well, whether you want or not, you’re in my home now. Enjoy your stay.”  
With a swish of his hair, he turned on his heel and exited the room. The generals followed after him. Ezor spared Lance a glance as she turned to follow, but Narti touched her shoulder and she left without a word.

 

For a few hours, he dozed in and out of sleep. The late nights had taken something of a toll on him and the water in the tank was much too warm, making it difficult to stay awake. At some point, he was woken by one of the researchers annoyingly tapping on the tank. As he blinked blearily, the heavy lid on the tank was opened the tiniest of cracks. A rubber gloved hand threw in a fish before retracting quickly and replacing the lid as quickly as it had opened.

As soon as the smell hit Lance’s nostrils, his stomach growled and he realized how hungry he was. He snatched the fish out of the water.

It was much too small to properly enjoy, but it was _living_. Fresh fish! He sent a quick thank you to the Goddess and blessed the fish before sinking his fangs into the tender meat. The fish stopped struggling instantly and he gulped it down in two bites.

Outside the tank, a researcher was observing him keenly. He hissed at them, not caring about the mess that was probably on his face before turning away. The researcher followed him to the other side of the tank. No matter which way he turned, he was constantly surrounded by glass.

Eventually, he settled for curling into a ball on the floor of his prison in an attempt to take as much privacy as he could get.

*

 

Keith paced back and forth across the deck, biting at his fingertips. The rest of the crew hovered nervously, watching in silence. Allura’s face was tight, pinched at the crease of her brow. Pidge stood with her arms crossed, anger in her eyes as she watched Keith pace.

“What are we going to do?” she asked.

Keith clenched his fists. It took conscious effort to unclench them.

“You have more of an idea of what’s going on,” Allura snapped. “You need to at least explain that. Maybe that would be more useful than destroying everything in your line of sight.”

Keith frowned, throwing her a look. She gave him an equally nasty one back. He sighed, his shoulders crumpling.

He had woken up that morning with a sore back and a crick in his neck. He had blinked in the darkness of the early morning, trying to ease the stiffness from his joints before he realized that he was lying on the floor of the storage room that had been previously holding Narti prisoner. Currently, the room was unoccupied except for himself.

Suddenly, he had never been more awake and alert.

“Lance?”

The empty room had no reply.

Panic clawed up from his gut, severing his fragile organs and stealing the breath from his lungs.

He had thrown open every door, calling for Lance as loud as he could and consequently waking up all the other crew members. They had grumbled about being woken up for a few seconds before they realized that Keith was hysterical with panic.

When he couldn’t find Lance anywhere, his panic had curdled to rage. Without any conscious thought, his feet had found themselves back in the storage room and with clenched fists, he had punched everything to the floor, anger and hurt pouring out of him like the sky opening up during a summer rainstorm.

Everything had been a blur. He was there but not really. All that his body encased was his emotion, no longer his soul. He had promised that he would get Lance home and now he was gone.

Gone.  
Gone.  
Promise.  
Gone  
Promise  
_Gone_

He couldn’t get his thoughts to stop swirling, they were stuck on repeat and with every one he could feel himself spiralling farther and farther into his grief. Someone laid a hand on his back and he jerked backwards, his thoughts cut abruptly.

“Keith? Keith, can you hear me?” Hunk asked, his heavy hand anchoring Keith to the _Red Lion_. “Can you stop screaming and tell us what’s going on?”

He hadn’t even realized he had been screaming until Hunk had mentioned it. He had looked into Hunk’s mocha colored eyes, round with concern. He had sucked in air, clinging to Hunk like a lifeline. Hunk had allowed him to, comfortingly rubbing his hand in circles over his back.

The rest of the crew had crowded around the doorframe, in various states of undress and sleepwear. Allura’s hair was more unkempt then she had ever allowed the rest of the crew to see and Pidge had forgotten to put on her glasses in the rush of the morning. They waited quietly for Keith to calm down, unease clear in their stance.

After a few shaky breaths, forcing his hands to unclench, Keith willed his thoughts to unstick and he slowly recounted the events of the night.

Now, the crew had joined him in his rage, although theirs was perhaps a bit more tempered. They wanted him to take action, but he didn’t know what to do. There was only one thing to do. He was willing to do it, but he didn’t want to do it at the expense of his crew member’s lives.

He inhaled deeply. “I think the generals took Narti and Lance back to the castle. With the upcoming coronation, that’s probably where Lotor would be.”

Hunk knitted his hands together. He had been sitting quietly with Coran, attempting to comfort the older man. Keith could tell that Hunk was also highly upset by Lance’s disappearance, but Coran seemed to be taking it the hardest. Usually the most jovial of the crew, Coran hadn’t said a word since Keith had explained the story. He looked a million miles away, withdrawn and forlorn.

“The castle? Like the one that Zarkon lives in and stuff?” Hunk stuttered.

Keith grimaced. “That’s the one. Something tells me that Zarkon will be the least of our worries.”

“So what’s the plan?” Pidge asked. “Infiltrate it and save Lance?”

“That’s what I was thinking,” Keith agreed. “But it’s basically suicide.”

The crew looked at him for a second before looking around at each other’s face. For the first time since they had woken up, the worry was wiped from their expressions. Determination sat in their eyes, jaws drawn in hard lines as they nodded at each other.  
“We’ll need to prepare.” Allura said. “I’ll go find a map with the coordinates,”

*

  
When Lotor had come back again, Lance had tried his best to ignore him. Turns out, that was a mistake. The crown prince didn’t like being ignored.

With a scowl, he turned to a researcher nearby. “15 volts.”

The researcher nodded obediently and walked over to the nearest wall. He pulled a switch, and Lance jolted as something bit him in the water. He hissed, slapping his tail with the palm of his hand as the tingle faded from his body.

“That was a slight electric shock. It’ll get worse if you don’t cooperate, and with all the water surrounding you, I can assure you that it won’t be pleasant.”

Lance rubbed the length of his tail where the electric shock had bit him. The stinging in his tail was fading, but the shock still laid heavy in his gut. He curled in on himself, clutching his tail. “What do you want with me?”

“I thought you’d never ask,” Lotor beamed. “It’s quite simple really. I want the Goddess’ gift.”

Whatever remaining breath that was left in his chest was gone immediately. He felt like a fish out of water, wide eyed and gasping, incapable of understanding exactly what fate it was meeting.

“What are you talking about?”

“You can’t play coy with me, fish. I know your kind has the ability to grant wishes.”

Lance blinked. “How?”

Lotor’s crystal white smile stretched at the corners.

“I guess I could indulge you in the story if it means you’ll aid me. Years ago, my father caught a mermaid and he was granted a wish.”

“Your father?”

“Zarkon.” There was a hint of undisguised distaste in Lotor’s voice. “He was a terrible ruler and a worse father, but he’s practically on his deathbed now, so he’s not important.”

Lance watched the prince warily. He had heard the others discuss Zarkon briefly and from the sounds of it, he was even worse than Lotor. That must have been saying something because Lotor wasn’t currently very high on Lance’s list of favorite people.

“How did your father catch a mermaid?” He asked.

“My mother was an intelligent and caring woman, who my father loved with all his heart. Eventually, she fell gravely ill and was fated to die within the year. Zarkon searched high and low for an effective healer, until he captured this mermaid and used his wish to heal her. However, something went wrong. My mother was alive and well, but...different. She was listless and cold and my father became cruel and mad with grief.” Lotor’s voice betrayed nothing, but his eyes had taken on a dullness that suggested that he had, at least once, felt pain from this experience.

“Afterwards, the mermaid, expecting a thank you, was waiting by the shore, but instead, my mother captured her again and forced her to give her a wish.”

“What did she ask for?” Lance asked, horrified.

“Power. She claimed that she wanted to aid Zarkon and make Galra the strongest empire there ever was. That power corrupted her and now she’s nothing more than a witch.” Lotor said bitterly.

“I don’t understand how this relates to me,” Lance said. “If one mermaid messed up on healing your mother already, why would you try again?”

“She’s not my mother anymore.” Lotor spat. “My mother’s as good as dead. She doesn’t even go by the same name anymore. There’s no point in wasting a wish on that witch. The thing that matters is that Zarkon is dead. We haven’t released the news to the public yet, but as soon as the death bell rings, the high ranking officials of my father’s court will decide that they’re all fit to rule.”

“But aren’t you next in line for the throne?”

Lotor sighed, pushing his hair away from his face. “Technically, I am the most legitimate choice, but most of the people in the court don’t think I’m worthy because of my bloodline. In Galra, the ruler ascends to the throne by lighting a ceremonial flame during the Kral Zera, so likely there will be a struggle for the throne.”

Lance slapped his tail against the walls of his tank impatiently, trying to get Lotor to get to the point while also working the kinks out of his tail.

“So why am I here? I don’t know what you want me to do. I’m not even sure why you would want to use mer magic after what happened last time.”

“I’m not asking to be brought back from death’s doorstep,” Lotor countered. “Haggar has an extreme amount of power, so clearly that worked in her favor. With your help, I would have enough power to take the throne myself. I assure you that you don’t want some of those other officials in a seat of power.”

“Why would I help you? I don’t care about Galran politics. Your men invaded and destroyed my home. You kidnapped me.” Lance snapped.

Lotor hummed thoughtfully. “I mean, you don’t have much of a choice, but if you need more incentive, I’d be willing to drop the bounty on my brother’s head. That’s probably a subject of Galran politics that you care about.”

Lance wrinkled his nose in confusion. “What do I care about your brother?”

Lotor blinked, seemingly taken aback for a moment. Then, ever so slowly, his lips curled upwards.  
“He didn’t tell you, did he? My brother, the prince second in line for the throne, is your captain, Keith Kogane.”

  
*

  
“So help me, Keith, if I find you out of bed, I’ll kill you before your curse even gets a chance.”

Keith scowled. “Like you’re any better.”

Pidge readjusted her glasses, looking wholly unimpressed. “I’m not the one staying up so that I can continue to worry about my boyfriend. You’re just prolonging your suffering.”

Keith blushed, but forged on anyways. “I’m not just worrying. Sleep is helping no one, especially Lance.”

“Except yourself.” Pidge sighed. “An exhausted captain is useful to no one. Look, as much as I hate it, there’s probably going to be a big battle ahead. I don’t want you to die from the strain of your curse, so you should gather as much energy as possible now. Besides, Lance would probably be upset if you didn’t sleep. He worries about you, you know.”

Keith had an argument prepared, but he closed his mouth. He scowled again at the floor, but this time it was a bit softer.

“Fine. But only for a few hours. Wake me if there’s any news.”

Pidge nodded and closed the door behind her as she exited the captain’s quarters. For someone of her stature, she could be quite strong. She had pushed him all the way from the deck with him dragging his heels the whole way.

It had been two days since the Galran generals had infiltrated the _Red Lion_ and taken Lance. In that time, Allura had rolled out the map to the Galran capital. Keith could only think of one port that would be safe enough to dock their ship in, and it was a bit of a journey from where they had been. The rest of the crew had gathered all the things they would need to set sail, but they were wary to do so without a real plan in place.

With every passing day, Keith grew more and more anxious to find Lance. He knew Lotor, he knew what he was capable of. Whatever it was, it wasn’t good. For so long, Keith had clung to the hope that he would find Shiro, but now two of the people who mattered the most were gone, in harm’s way and at the mercy of others.

The other cause of his anxiety was returning to the castle. He had swore up and down that he would never return, but here he was. With the lack of planning, he was basically walking through the front door. He would do anything for Lance, for any of his friends, but he hadn’t thought he’d have to do this. A very small part of him wished they’d never reach the shore.

Despite his fears, the weather seemed to understand their cause for urgency. The days were warm, with blue skies and waters good for smooth sailing. The wind conditions were optimal and with the assistance of the ship’s crystal, the _Red Lion_ was making good time.

To distract himself, Keith had thrown himself into his work as much as possible. When he wasn’t navigating, he was helping the others with whatever tasks they were working on. In his free time, he cleaned his sword. It had been polished at least four times so far and shone brighter than when it had been brand new. He spent as much time as he could doing things to advance their progress and avoiding the captain’s quarters.

When Shiro had disappeared, he had taken over the captain’s quarters because it made him feel closer to him. He and Shiro had spent a lot of evenings talking well into the night in the captain’s quarters and for a while, it was a comforting presence to be surrounded by his possessions.  
It wasn’t until the frustration set in over the grief that he started to hate sleeping in the captain’s quarters. Weeks went by with no leads on Shiro’s whereabouts and suddenly, stepping into that room was overstimulating.

Everytime he opened the door, Shiro’s smell would overpower him and everything was exactly where Shiro had left it. It was like waiting for his brother to come home, but knowing he was never coming home.

In a fit of rage, he had torn Shiro’s heavy comforter, a sign of his captainship, off his bed and thrown it in a crumpled ball in the corner. Keith had moved his clothes into the room and for a while they were neatly folded in the drawers, right next to Shiro’s, but as the grief set in, he felt like an invader. He ripped his clothes from the drawer, scattering them all over the floor so they would hide as much of Shiro’s room as possible without actually interfering with any of his belongings.

His whirlwind of rage only stopped when he went to shove Shiro’s captain coat into the closet. Shiro had left it in it’s usual spot, hanging on the handle of the dresser and Keith’s hand fell short before he could grab it. The black coat was neatly pressed and hung. It had been Shiro’s favorite item of clothing. Keith had fallen to his knees, allowing the sobs that he had been holding back to bubble out. Soon they were coming so fast and hard that they caused his body to jerk with grief.

Somehow, being back in the captain’s quarters now was even worse. Gradually, without Keith even realizing it, Lance had broke the association Keith had had with the room. Since Lance had come aboard the _Red Lion_ , Keith had started sleeping in this room again. Actually _sleeping_ , not just lying in bed staring at the ceiling, drowning in his thoughts.

He had become accustomed to sharing the space. Even when Lance wasn’t sleeping with him in the bed, he always left the bathroom door open so he and Keith could talk as he soaked in the tub. Now the tub was empty, and the water still and stale, awaiting its occupant.

As Keith sat down on the mattress of the bed, he shuddered. Since he and Lance had become... _whatever_ they were, he had never been to bed before Lance and the mattress felt stiff without his added weight. The sheets were cold on his bare skin and as he rolled onto his side, he caught a distinct aroma distracting him from sleep. In the quiet, Lance’s smell was the loudest thing in the room.

Keith rolled over, nuzzling his face into the pillow that Lance normally used when he decided to curl up in bed. Inhaling deeply, he could almost imagine Lance next to him, his bare skin bumping against Keith’s, always warm like it was constantly being kissed by the sun.

In the solitude of the room, Keith choked on a sob, muffled into the pillow. He rolled over, sucking in air like a fish out of water. His chest shuddered and soon the grief racked his body open. While his cheeks wet with tears, eventually he succumbed to sleep.

  
*

  
Keith Kogane, the captain of the _Red Lion_ , the boy who had captured him, the boy he had shared a bed with, was a prince of the Galran empire?

Lance couldn’t even begin to process that information.

Sure, he had known that Keith was a Galran commander of the army, but this felt completely different. He tried to imagine Keith in the fancy clothes that Lotor wore, but his mind couldn’t piece the images together. He tried to imagine Keith at a family dinner like the ones his own family had, and somehow that was even harder.

“But… what? He was a general of the army, not a prince. And he looks nothing like you!”

Lotor was clearly amused, given the smirk on his face. “He _was_ a general, alongside these four,” Lotor explained, gesturing to the women around him. “And we’re only half related. My father had a fling with a woman named Krolia, who gave birth to Keith. We both take after our mothers.”

“What happened? Why did he leave?” Lance asked weakly.

“He and a group of his men were sent to guard a prison temporarily. He made friends with a very important military prisoner and then released him. Zarkon jailed him for it, but he escaped and became a pirate.”

He could guess who that important military prisoner was. Lance’s mind was instantly transported far away, back aboard the _Red Lion_ , in the crow’s nest in the middle of the night. In the reassurance of the night and each other’s company, Keith had said, “Shiro saved me.”

“Zarkon put a bounty on his head when he heard he escaped. He was furious, mostly at me for letting him get away,” Lotor continued with a scowl. “Squadrons of men were dispatched to bring him back to Galra to face his punishment.”

“But none of them caught him, so why would I help you?”

“Even the fastest horse gets tired at some point. Do you think he wants to spend his entire life on the run? Besides that,” Lotor flashed his teeth, as sharp as snake fangs. “Do you really think he won’t come back for you? If he still has a bounty on his head, he will be captured and killed as soon as he sets foot in this castle.”

Lance glared at him, flicking his tail, but he fell silent.

“I hope you’ll consider my offer.” Lotor said triumphantly, exiting the room.

Lance twisted and turned inside the glass chamber, trying, and failing, to find a comfortable position. Anger rushed through his veins, coursing through his blood, but he had nowhere to release it. Obviously he didn’t want Keith to be on the run forever, but he didn’t want to help Lotor either. He didn’t trust him as far as Allura could throw him.

He thought about what Lotor had said about Keith coming to get him. Part of him wished that he wouldn’t. As much as Lance wanted to leave, he didn’t want his friends to jeopardize their lives for him. His thoughts drifted to Keith.

Strong, beautiful Keith, with his long hair tied back and his muscled arms, always prepared for a fight, and that stupid rashness of his. There wasn’t a chance that he wasn’t coming. On top of kidnapping Lance, Lotor had mentioned at the bar that Shiro was here somewhere. Keith had lost his bargaining chips. All the cards were on the table now.

For a little while, Lance lost himself to the boredom of his prison. He let his mind wander from topic to topic, his family, his crew, Keith, food, his family, over and over again. The researchers stopped by every once and a while to write something on their clipboards, but Lance could never see what they were writing, so it never provided any entertainment.

Suddenly, Lance was interrupt from his daze by the top of the tank opening. Not just a little bit, but this time, the lid opened entirely. He looked through the hole at the ceiling, but no food was dropped in. Swiftly, a set of gloved hands threw in a large net, surrounding Lance.

He struggled and cried out as he became tangled in the rope. The tank was too small for him to move properly and there was nowhere he could escape to. His claws slashed uselessly at the rope and he hissed as someone outside the tank tugged on the net, dragging him upwards. Two large Galran guards pulled him out of the tank, throwing him onto the laboratory floor.

“Secure him on the table,” a voice said behind him.

Lance twisted around to see, still constrained by the net. A hooded woman with a pointed face and long white hair stood glowering above him. Despite the older, unhealthy look about her, Lance could see a slight resemblance to Lotor.

“Get him secure,” Haggar repeated.

The two guards struggled to pick him up as he thrashed wildly on the floor. One of the guards cried out in pain as Lance struck his shin with his claws, tearing the flesh into a meaty red line.

“Fucking fish!” He yelled, landing a heavy kick with his hardened boots on Lance’s ribs. Lance rolled over away from the man, wheezing for breath.

The two men took the opportunity to lift him up and carry him to a metal table across the room. As the started to put him down, he dug his fingers into the flesh of the injured man’s arms that wasn’t hiding behind his armor. The man swore, slamming him into the table. They forced his hands into metal cuffs, pinned to the table. He flashed his tail angrily.

“Don’t worry, we take good care of our pets here.” Haggar said, an ill-looking smile across her face.

As Lance struggled in his restraints, he realized he could see the other research pods that had been out of view from the tank. One was unoccupied, but the sight of the other silenced Lance’s protests.

Outside the pod, in a neatly stacked pile, was a collection of armor, with similar colors and embellishments to the one Allura sometimes wore. Inside the pod, was a bedraggled man in dirty prisoner’s clothes. His black hair had gone shock white at the front and hung limply over his face. He clutched his arm to his chest, or rather his shoulder, because about halfway down his right arm, there was only a bloody stump wrapped in bandages.

 

*

  
When Keith opened his eyes, he found himself underwater. For a moment, he thought the _Red Lion_ had sunk while he was sleeping. He thrashed wildly, trying to paddle upwards, blowing out his cheeks to contain as much air as possible. Where was the rest of his crew? What had happened?

_Keith...._  
_Keith Kogane…_

Keith stopped trying to push himself upwards at the sound of his name. His eyes darted around, trying to take in the scene around him. The voice wasn’t one he recognized, high pitched and feminine. He prayed that the universe hadn’t given him the challenge of fighting another siren.

_Keith…_

The voice beckoned him again and a bit belatedly, he realized the voice was coming from a cave at the bottom of the ocean floor. His lungs gave way and he could no longer hold him breath. For a moment, he was panicking, trying to get the oxygen that he couldn’t. After a moment, he realized that he didn’t need it though. His lungs were working just as fine as if he were on land. He looked around one last time, trying to catch his breath, before diving into the cave.

Like breathing, diving into the cave wasn’t as Keith expected. The pressure didn’t increase as he dove deeper, and it didn’t become any harder to swim. There was a strange white glow emanating from deeper in the cave, so he followed it.

_Keith…_ the voice urged.

He placed a hand along the wall of the cave to steady himself. His jaw hung open and as he looked at the mermaid in front of him, he really processed what Lance had been saying about the size of female mermaids at dinner that day.

She was _huge_. Her silver tail coiled around itself. Her dark skin barely stood out against the shadows of the cave, but it didn’t need to. The woman herself was lit with a white light that seemed to come from her body.

“Who are you?” Keith asked, struggling to find his voice.

The woman blinked, her eyes completely washed out with light. Her dark hair floated around her face gracefully.

_I am here to help you,_ she said. Her voice rang in Keith’s ear, like the melodic chime of a bell. _Time is of the essence, and there is never enough, so let’s get to the point. You and your crew don’t have the capability to save Lance. Your curse will kill you and your crew will be overrun._

Keith blinked in surprise, trying to figure out how this strange ethereal mermaid knew Lance. “It doesn’t matter, we have to try anyways.”

The mermaid flicked the end of her tail. _I respect your bravery, especially in the face of your own hardship. But I know from experience that it will take more than good intentions to save your love._

Keith hoped the cave was dark enough that the mermaid couldn’t see his face flush red. “Experience?” He asked instead.

The mermaid swam closer to him, her tail wrapping around his body without touching him. She regarded him closely, peering at his face as the white light around her illuminated him. The light in her eyes had faded slightly and she was close enough now that he could see the multitude of colors in her eyes, ocean blues with stormy greys blurring together in a whirlwind of her iris.

_Once I was young, like you,_ she said. She didn’t look any older than 35 to Keith. She smiled as if she could read his thoughts.

_I too fell in love with someone,_ she continued. _And when she needed help, I tried to save her by myself._

“What happened?” Keith asked.

_She died. And my life could never be the same without her, so I died too._

“But you’re here,” Keith said, furrowing his brow.

_Indeed. People took pity on me, and sought to help me, so they made me immortal. It was only with their aid that I could save my love. Without it, she would have been lost forever. Asking for help is our greatest strength, because by relying on others, we give up the control we so desperately seek in our lives in favor of letting someone take part of the burden and bring new skills and ideas to the table._

She caressed his face softly, the white light spilling onto his cheeks.

_If you are to save him, you will need help. Seek aid where you can get it, my child._

As she took her hand back, the white light around her pulsed, darkening only for a minute at first, and then entirely as Keith woke up in his bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FYI, the Goddess' speech is in italics for Keith and not for Lance because she's speaking a different language. Keith can't understand Kelpian, after all. 
> 
> Leave a comment to help Keith get to Lance faster!
> 
> Or come chat at my tumblr: [celestial-caster](https://celestial-caster.tumblr.com/)  
> Please go love and reblog the lovely art from [saltwater-paladin](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/saltwater-paladin)


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the thrilling finale of _Spoondrift_ , the crew sails to the capital on a rescue mission and crashes the Galran coronation, the Kral Zera.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LAST CHAPTER EVERYONE!! Oh my god I'm so relieved... anyways it's a SUPER long chapter at 20k. I debated splitting it into a finale and an epilogue, but I think they fit best together.
> 
> I'll leave you with a similar message that one of my favorite klance authors, wittyy_name, left for her readers:
> 
> This chapter is a little over 20k, and much longer than previous chapters. Please don't drop your homework or studying or responsibilities to read this ASAP. Please don't stay up late if you have to wake up early. It'll be here when you have the time, so please take care of yourself. Set some time aside when you need a break and read this chapter, but don't force 20k words just because. okay, with that, I hope you beautiful people all have a lovely day!<3

“Shiro?” Lance whispered.

Obviously the man in the pod didn’t hear him, but Haggar did. She cackled wildly.

“Yes, that is the man who was once a great commander of the Altean army! Look what he has become now! Nothing more than a weak man who cowers at his own shadow! But soon, soon I will return him to his former glory. In fact, I will even improve it!”

Lance shuddered. He shivered with the feeling of air on his skin, and his chest heaved with the effort to breath. His gills couldn’t filter the air as well as his lungs could and every time he tried to suck in air, it felt like something inside his body shuttered close on him.

As Haggar dragged her thin fingers along the scales of his tail, he shivered with the sensation of her cold flesh.

“What are you doing?”

“Examination,” Haggar replied, not looking up from his tail.

“Examination?”

Haggar glanced up, grinning slyly. “You’re too stubborn to give Lotor what he wants. When he becomes tired of his playtoy, you’ll become all mine.”

Panic bubbled in Lance’s veins, his muscles tensing. “Lotor will be angry if you do anything now. He needs my help.”

Haggar scoffed. “Lotor doesn’t deserve the throne. Besides that, he’s a foolish child who understands nothing. He doesn’t even know that Keith has a curse on him.”

Lance felt his blood go cold. “How do you know about Keith’s curse?”

Haggar grinned wickedly. “I was the one who cast it! Can’t you feel the energy radiating?”

Lance swallowed hard as sickness rushed up his throat. There was a very strong energy radiated from the witch, not quite as vile as the one that was slowly consuming Keith’s lifeforce, but something very similar. He had been trying very hard to ignore it.

“Please,” he started. “You have to let me-”

He had been trying to charm them all into letting him go, but the guards seemed one step ahead of him. As he spoke, they shoved a gag between his jaws, causing him to hack violently.

Haggar rolled over a cart of tools next the table. She picked up a needle and syringe and as she approached Lance’s tail with it, he jerked wildly, swinging his tail back to smack her away. She narrowly dodged it, hissing at him. Without warning, she jammed the needle into the flesh of his tail. Lance cried out as she injected the liquid and pulled it out. He watched as his tail dropped limply to the table, the length pouring out onto the floor.

“What have you done to me?” He whimpered with pain, but he couldn’t get the words out past the gag.

His tail was going numb rapidly. He tricked to flick the muscle upwards, but it was unresponsive. He could still feel the muscles in his arm and torso, but after his torso, there was just nothing, no feeling, no control. Despite his loss of vocal control, Haggar still seemed to understand what he was trying to ask.

“I can’t have you turn into your human form, now can I? There’s no point in having a mer specimen if I can’t look at him as a mer. With this injection, your shapeshifting abilities should be temporarily inhibited.”

She slid a single hand with claw like fingers down the length of his tail. Despite not having an muscle control, he could feel her touch against his scales.

“Such beautiful scales,” she murmured. “A lovely color.”

She returned to her cart and chose a pair of forceps. As she hovered over his tail, petting his scales, Lance slammed his arms against the cuffs.

‘No! No!” He screamed, his voice muffled but pushing past the gag.

The witch cackled as she lowered the forceps, slowly prying one of his dark blue scales off of his tail. Pain stabbed his tail, running upwards throughout the rest of his body as he screamed. When she was done, she dropped the scale into a little vial. Tears rolled down Lance’s cheeks. He strained his head to see the damage done. The spot with the missing scale gave way to the fleshy pink muscle of his tail, oozing red slowly. He sobbed when he saw it.

“I’ll need another for a control group.” Haggar said, clicking the forceps together.  
As she pried off another scale, Lance sobbed, his chest shuddering. The pain was intolerable, like the burning heat of stepping into a fire and standing there. Eventually the pain became so much that he blacked out, escaping to a dark relief.

  
*

  
Keith was the first one at breakfast the next morning. When Hunk came in, he looked surprised to see him, but he said nothing more than a ‘good morning’ and shuffled off to make breakfast. Slowly but surely, the smells wafting from Hunk’s cooking drew the others into the galley.

As they all got situated with their breakfast, pancakes that were both incredibly round and fluffy, Keith cleared his throat to draw their attention. He tried very hard to ignore the empty chair next to him where Lance usually sat.

“There’s some things I think we need to discuss if we’re going to infiltrate the castle and save Lance. The first is that I think we need to go back to Winturn.”

“What? Why?” Pidge asked. “We just sailed from that port, if we turn back, Lance will have to wait even longer.”

Keith grimaced, staring at his pancakes. As good as they looked, his stomach was turning over and he couldn’t eat a bite.

“I know. But I had this dream and I don’t think we can do this without the help of the Blade of Marmora. We’re going to need backup.”

“You’re making this decision based on a dream?” Pidge asked incredulously. “Lance could die in that time.”

Keith flinched.“The Goddess visited me in my dream.”

“The Goddess?” Coran asked. “Like Lance’s Goddess?”

“Yeah. I didn’t know who she was at first, but thinking about it now, there’s no one else she could have been. She said that without help we were doomed to fail.”

“I do think that getting the Blade’s help would be worthwhile,” Allura said thoughtfully. “But the real question is do you think they would help?”

Keith hesitated. “I don’t know if Kolivan would be willing, but I think we can somehow convince him.”

“I’ll go set course for Winturn after breakfast,” Coran said. “If Red goes full speed, we can maybe halve the amount of time it takes.”

Except for Keith, the crew fell into eating silently again. Hunk regarded him across the table.  
“Is there something else you wanted to tell us?” he asked.

Keith rolled his shoulders, feeling how tense they were. His palms were sweaty as he rubbed them together under the table.

“Yes, actually,” he said slowly. “Don’t freak out when I tell you, but it’s probably important that you know before we get to the capital. You all know the story of how I came to be aboard this ship, but you probably don’t know what I was running away from.”

He paused for a moment to collect his wits. The entire crew’s eyes were on him as they waited patiently.

“I’m one of the princes of the Galran Empire. I helped Shiro escape after your ship was attacked and he got captured for the price of taking me with him when he left. Before I could escape, Zarkon caught and imprisoned me. Shiro came back and freed me, and then took me aboard _the Voltron_ anyway.”

Allura’s fork clattered to her plate. Hunk’s mouth was agape and everyone was staring wide eyed at him. Suddenly, they all started talking at once.

“ _You’re_ the prince of the Galran Empire?”

“Your father’s _Zarkon_?”

“ _That’s_ why all those Galran men were chasing us?”

“Woah, woah, one at a time, guys,” Keith exclaimed. “But yes, to all of those things. I didn’t mean to deceive you. I guess I was kind of hoping that they would just give up and I could eventually just live a normal life.”

“Ah, yes, being a pirate is such a normal lifestyle choice.” Pidge said sarcastically.

“There’s more,” Keith continued. “Zarkon imprisoned me, but it was actually his witch, Haggar who caught me. She told me that running away from Galra wouldn’t solve my problems, but taking leadership would.”

“What do you mean?” Allura asked.

“Galran coronations aren’t certain, instead powerful Galrans can fight for the throne. Haggar’s not Galran, so she’s looking for a champion that she can give orders to. She told me that if I was going to fight against her, she would make it so I could never fight again.” Keith explained.

“Your curse!” Hunk gasped. Keith nodded.

“I told her I would never be her puppet, but the curse can’t be broken unless I submit and become the apparent ruler of Galra, unless Haggar dies. When Shiro broke me out of prison, I took the chance and escaped.”  
“So what’s going to happen now that you’re going back?” Allura asked.

“I don’t know.” Keith said honestly. “I have no clue what’s going to happen next.”

  
*

  
When he opened his eyes, he was surprised to find that he wasn’t still on the laboratory table, or even in the tank that had become his prison. He was in his bed, back home, in the castle under the sea. He flicked his tail, staring up at the ceiling. The silence was suddenly broken by the yells of his siblings, their voices carrying as they swam down the hall towards his bedroom. Predictably, one slammed open the door, and they hovered over his bedside.

“Marco, Luis, Veronica,” Lance said, trying to swallow the emotion in his voice. This was an ordinary scene, out of any day. His siblings would never let him live it down if he cried in front of them.  
His older sister smiled. “Lance. It’s time to get up.”

The youngest of them all, Luis, propelled himself as fast as he could, tumbling into Lance’s bedcovers and exposing him to the cold water around him. He made a grabbing motion for the sheets, but Luis giggled, rolling further away. Really Lance just wanted to ruffle his hair, to feel the softness of his curls against the palm of his hand again.

Marco laughed. “What, are you planning to spend the entire day in bed, sleepyhead?”  
Lance watched the way the corners of his brother’s mouth turned upward, the way his eyes crinkled when he laughed.

“Not anymore.” He replied, making a face at his siblings as he stretched out his tail and rolled out of bed.

“You have such horrible bedhead,” Veronica said, running her fingers through it and forcing it to stick up even more.

“Stop,” Lance whined. “I haven’t had time to put anything in it.”

“Yeah, V, don’t you know,” Marco said teasingly. “Beauty sleep isn’t enough for Lance.”

Lance stuck out his tongue at his older brother. Marco dove at him, and Lance sped backwards, trying to escape his grasp. His brother was a lot faster and stronger than him though, and easily wound his tail around Lance’s, pulling him in for a hug.

Lance relaxed into the hug, burying his nose into Marco’s shoulder. His family gave great hugs, but his older brother was bested by no one except their mom. Marco’s tail was warm and the feeling of their scales rubbing together was as familiar as the scent that resided on Marco’s skin.

“Come on, enough fooling around. We have to go,” Veronica said, pulling Lance out of Marco’s grasp. As strong as Marco was, she was even more powerful. Her lilac colored tail was deceivingly beautiful considering how well she could use it as a weapon.

“Where are we going?” Lance asked as the rest of his siblings trailed them down the hallway of the palace.

His sister frowned, her eyebrows furrowing. “You know where we’re going, Lance.”

“No, I don’t,” he said.

“Don’t you know Lance?” Luis said, tugging at his free hand.

“No! Why doesn’t one of you just tell me?”

“To see Mom, obviously. You know she’s really sick, Lance.” Marco replied, the corners of his mouth creased downwards.

“Sick? With what?” Lance worried. “Is she okay?”

Victoria looked down, swishing her tail impatiently. “No, she’s not okay. She was worried sick when you were missing!”  
“V,” Marco said, reaching out to comfort his sister. She pulled away from him.

“And to make matters worse, she took it upon herself to go looking for you! If you hadn’t gone gallivanting on your adventures, she wouldn’t have gone ashore looking for you! She wouldn’t have been captured by those men and hurt! We’re lucky she even made it back!”

Lance’s heart dropped into his stomach. He felt like he had just swallowed a blown up puffer fish that was currently needling his gut.

“I sent a letter! I warned everyone not to go up to the island!” He cried.

“It was too late for a letter to be much good,” Marco said gently. Luis blinked up at them, his blue eyes wide.

Lance wretched his hand out of Victoria and Luis’ hold, racing down the hall as fast as he could swim, to where his mother’s bedroom was located. The hall seemed endless, like he could see the door, but never get there.

“Mom!” He sobbed. Suddenly, his hand was on the doorknob. He pushed it open, barreling in, head over tail.

His mother was lying on her giant bed, the bed that he and his siblings had climbed into when they were little, the bed that his mother had told him countless stories on. She was rolled over onto her side, limp and unmoving, so unlike her usual self. His mother was a Ningyo, a omen of war, not a weak and fragile being.

Her tail was strangely discolored, duller than usual. As he rushed to her bedside to take her hand, he noticed that there were two splotches of pink flesh where two scales had been pulled. He dropped his face to his mother’s hand as he cried. Her skin felt cold against his. Her long brown hair that normally flowed around her gracefully laid limp against her face. As he pushed some of it away from her face, he choked back a sob.

Her eyes, a brown so dark they were almost black, stared back at him, dilated and unblinking.

“Mom,” he sobbed. “Mom, please say something.” As he lifted her hand to nuzzle his face in the palm of it, the room pulsated around him, darkening. Suddenly, it all fell away.

“Mom!” He cried, no longer feeling her skin against his. Everything around him was black until he was pulled somewhere else.

He didn’t recognize where he was, but Keith was there. He was fighting a horde of Galran soldiers, and steadily being overwhelmed by them. Lance tried to call out to him, tried to move to help him, but his feet were frozen, his mouth glued shut. He was helpless to do anything but watch as one of the Galran soldiers cut him down. Keith crumpled to the ground, and he didn’t move again. His eyes stared out at Lance, frozen in shock, completely lifeless as red stained his clothes.

Lance himself, crumpled. He couldn’t even scream. Everything just felt numb. He was vaguely aware of the tears dripping down his face, but mostly all he could see was his mother’s face and Keith, unmoving and lifeless. And he was to blame.

“It was just a dream. It’s not your fault. You’ll be okay.” The Goddess murmured, rubbing a hand soothingly across his back. “None of it was real.”

Slowly, he looked up at the Goddess’ elegant face. It was pinched with concern, her mouth drawn in a tight line. They sat on a beach, the waves quietly rising and falling around them.

“Lance, listen to me. Keith is coming to save you. You’re going to be okay.”  
Panic rose in Lance’s chest as he thought about his previous dream, as Keith’s body hit the floor over and over again in his mind.

“No! He can’t come! He’ll die!”

The Goddess drew him to her, throwing her long, dark hair out of the way. Somehow, without realizing it, he had morphed into his human form. His bare knees sunk into the sand.

“Shh, he won’t. Currently, the pirate is seeking aid. Besides the aid that he gathers, you and your friends will also have my help. You and Keith already have much strength. His crew as well. I’ve been watching your shipwright and she’s improved greatly with that sword of hers. However, despite your individual strengths, together we are even stronger. You are going to be alright.”

“How do you know?” Lance whispered.

“I don’t.” The Goddess said. “But I believe that everything will work out for the best. If you’ve done everything you can, it’s all you can think.”

“Why are you helping me?” He asked.

“You are a child of the sea. And perhaps…” She trailed off. “You remind me a bit of myself. You have served me well as the _Ayuto_ and I want to help you.”

Lance opened his mouth to reply, but suddenly all he could hear was screaming. The beach dropped away like grains of sand.

For a minute, he thought _he_ was the one screaming, but as he blinked the haziness out of his eyes, he realized that he was back in his tank. The freshwater burned the two holes in his tail where his scales were missing.

Across the room, on the table that Lance had been operated on, Haggar was hunched over someone else. A bit belatedly, he realized the screaming was coming from Shiro, who was now on the table.

Haggar had unwrapped the bloody bandages around his severed arm, throwing them to the ground around her feet.

Shiro cried out, his back arching in pain. He thrashed wildly on the table, trying to break away.

“Someone come hold him down!” Haggar called. One of the guards from earlier, the one Lance hadn’t injured, came at her command and used his strength to push Shiro down onto the table. Even from his tank, Lance could hear Shiro cry out.

Haggar stepped away from the metal operating table to retrieve something on her cart of tools. Lance looked on in horror. Without Haggar standing in the way, Lance could see the full scope of damage done to Shiro, especially since the prisoner’s shirt he had been wearing had been removed. His skin was littered in purple-black bruises and his ribs protruded from the skin of his chest.

The most horrifying part, however, was his arm. Not only had it been cut off, but Haggar was also in the process of attaching a robotic arm to the stump. The arm was perfectly in proportion to Shiro’s remaining arm, but by the way Shiro was writhing on the table, Lance could tell the process was painful.

After what seemed like a lifetime, Haggar decided she was done and packed her tools up. She rolled the cart away, leaving Shiro sobbing on the table, his wrists restrained by his sides, including the robotic one. Shiro’s body shuddered and jerked as he sobbed loudly.

Eventually he stopped, his body falling still. Lance wasn’t sure whether he had blacked out, fallen asleep, or just given up.

In the newfound silence, Lance realized he could no longer ignore his own problems. Every part of his body hurt. He tried to roll over in the tank, but it was so small. It clearly wasn’t meant for a mermaid, because if he had been any bigger, he wouldn’t have fit. His stomach growled and he rubbed the skin of his torso longingly.

Everyday, in the morning, a gloved Galran researcher would come by and drop a single live fish into the tank, which Lance would greedily gulp down. But even though live fish were refreshing, these ones weren’t enough to sustain off of. They were too small, with not enough meat on their bones. He considered stockpiling them, so that after a few days he could eat a few at a time, but that would mean sharing his limited space and besides, as soon as the scent of them hit his nose, he found himself unable to resist temptation. He was so hungry.

Almost as if someone had heard his thoughts, the top of the tank slid open a fraction, and a hand dropped in a fish. For a minute he was confused. It wasn’t feeding time, and the hand wasn’t gloved. The fish itself was larger than the ones that were normally dropped into the tank, with a decent amount of meat on it.

He latched onto the fish instantly, but he forced himself to stop and smell it for poison before he ate it. He looked out the glass of his tank, momentarily surprised at who he saw standing there. The general that Keith had taken hostage, Narti, was standing in front of the tank. Her cat sat on her shoulders, blinking at him lazily.

They stared at each other for a minute before Narti raised a single hand, gesturing at him. Then she turned away, leaving the research lab. Lance looked down at the fish in his claws, still struggling weakly. Narti had decided to bring him food, just as he had done for her.

Despite the circumstances, Lance found himself grinning as he slowly savored his fish. For once, a small flicker of hope was rekindled within himself.  
*  
Just as Coran had said, the crew was able to make it back to Winturn in half of the time. Luckily, they hadn’t dispelled the charm on Red that disguised her yet, so they just sailed her into port and went about their business as quickly as possible.

Before they got off the ship, Keith called Allura over to him.  
“Take the rest of the crew to the Blade’s headquarters. I’ll meet you there, but you’ll need this to get in.” He unsheathed his knife, handing it to her.

She took the knife, her reflection cast in the polished metal. “Where are you going?”

“I have someone I need to talk to first. I think we’re going to need him to convince the Blade to help.”

With that, the group split into two, and Keith went on his way. He followed the path he had taken Lance on a few days before, careful to keep his hood drawn to avoid prying eyes.

Finally, he reached a little row of businesses. Unlike the last time he had come, people were coming and going from the shops. Many of the shops had decorated in preparation of the Kral Zera. Keith slipped into the blacksmith’s shop unnoticed.

The little bell rang when he opened the door, but Keith called out for Thace anyway. A moment later, he materialized from the back room, no different than the other day, except perhaps a bit more dirty from whatever project he was working on.

“Keith? I thought you would have left by now.”

“I did. But I came back. I need your help.”

Thace regarded him for a moment, and then his eyes traveled to the empty space behind him.

“Where’s Lance?”

Keith looked at him grimly. Thace sighed, sitting down heavily on the stool behind the counter.

“Lotor kidnapped him. I’m going to save him, and my other friend. But I need help.” Keith continued.

“Lotor probably would’ve taken him to the castle’s prison. You want to storm the castle? That’s a suicide mission, but I guess that is something you would do,” Thace mused.

  
*

  
Allura twisted Keith’s blade in her hand, trying to keep her facial expression neutral. Keith’s blade had allowed her and the rest of the crew into the Blade, but it didn’t mean the Blade was going to listen to her.

Curse him, how could he just leave her here?

Hunk and Pidge stood behind her, but she could tell their patience was running thin as well. They wanted to go save their friends. With every minute they wasted trying to convince the Blade to help them, who knew what Lance and Shiro were facing.

“There’s no reason for us to help you. The Blade works by rationality, not emotion.” Kolivan said. “If Keith wants to save his friend, he’ll need to do it by himself.”

“But it is a matter of rationality. Prince Lotor cannot be allowed access to the powers that Lance has.” Allura tried.

Kolivan spread his hands. “I’m sorry, this is just too big of a risk. We can’t save your friends. The Blade is a secretive rebel organization, we can’t just walk up to the castle and take over.”

“Actually I think you can,”

Allura, Hunk, and Pidge turned around to see that Keith, along with another man, had walked into the room. In the man wore a blacksmith’s apron, but in his hand was a blade identical to Keith’s.

The man spoke again. “I’ve infiltrated the castle plenty of times to collect information for you. I don’t see why the Blade can’t continue to do so to help Keith here. He’s provided valuable information for the Blade over the years.”

“Thace, keep your nose out of this.” Kolivan scowled. “You know the Blade doesn’t get involved with petty emotional missions. That’s how people end up dead.”

“Actually, I agree with the Altean princess as well.” Thace said, gesturing to her. “Keith filled me in on the way here, and I don’t know what Lotor is planning, but having access to godly abilities might be extremely detrimental to our cause. If we don’t prevent this, this war will be drawn out and there will be even more people will end up dead.”

Kolivan scowled at the spy, who locked eye contact with him and refused to look away.

“Please,” Keith said, stepping forward. “I can’t do this without your help. I’m asking you to contribute your skills and your resources to this fight. With the aid of the Blade, I think we have a shot of pulling this off.”  
*  
Narti came back several times over the course of the next three days. She would usually come once a day, just to stand there and look at him. Obviously she was blind, and she couldn’t speak, but her cat would rub up against the glass and blink at Lance, who blinked back and always gave a little trill of greeting. For some reason, the other researchers never seemed to question her presence.

Late at night, when all of the researchers had left, Narti would sneak back into the lab and bring Lance a fish to eat. It was always some sort of large saltwater fish and it would help ease his grumbling stomach, at least for the meanwhile. His ribs were still beginning to protrude unhealthily, but it satisfied the rumbling of his stomach for a little while.

These visits, along with the hope the Goddess had given him, made his time in captivity slightly more bearable. Lotor came back a few times to ask more questions, but when Lance refused to comply, he increased the amount of shock going into the tank. Lance felt like his bones were still ringing inside his body.

Haggar hadn’t taken anymore scales, but she was conducting daily examinations where her researchers dragged Lance out of his tank and poked and prodded him. They kept injecting him with whatever that liquid was that inhibited his shapeshifting. He wished they would just leave him in that tiny tank and leave him alone.

Then, Narti stopped coming. Lance eagerly awaited her arrival, but the time she normally visited came and went. He flapped his tail against the side of the tank anxiously, trying to estimate the time gone by.

In the middle of the night, just as he was beginning to doze off, he heard the sound of footsteps approaching the tank. He jerked awake, blinking a few times until his vision cleared. Much to his surprise, it wasn’t Narti standing there, but Ezor.

When she saw him staring at her, she shifted from one foot to the other, crossing her arms.

“I was a little sad to see you in here, you know.”

Lance didn’t respond. Ezor sighed, twisting her long ponytail for a minute.  
“I’m surprised that I wasn’t the only one who thought so.”

“What do you mean?” Lance asked.

“Narti. It took us forever to get her to hang out with us. Zethrid and I had a bet going at one point on whether or not she would come out for drinks if we invited her. She just always seemed so dedicated to her job.” She paused, her eyes softening as she looked at Lance. “But then you come along. I don’t know what you did, but she felt the need to help you.”

Lance shook his head. “No, she just felt like she owed me something. I gave her food when she was our prisoner, so she returned the favor.”

“Oh, so that’s it. Personally, I feel like there was more to it than that.” Ezor shrugged, huffing a laugh. Suddenly her eyes welled up.

Taken aback, Lance leaned forward, his hands on the glass. “What’s wrong?” He asked.

Ezor choked out a sob. “She’s gone, oh god. We’ve just been pretending that nothing happened, but,”  
Something vile crawled up Lance’s throat and lodged itself there. “Gone? What do you mean?”

“L-Lotor found out that she was helping you. Even I didn’t know about it. He killed her for treason. I d-don’t know, I didn’t think he’d ever do that to one of his generals.” Her chest racked with sobs as she huffed in for breath.

Despite the horrible feeling that was lodged in his throat, he somehow found his voice. “Oh Goddess, I am so sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to get anyone hurt.”

Ezor wiped her tears with her gloved hand, standing up straight. “No, it’s not your fault. It was her choice, and Lotor killed her for it. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to tell you all of this, I just couldn’t believe that Narti was a traitor.” She took a deep breath, composing herself enough that unless someone was looking at her pinkened cheeks, they would never be able to tell that she had just been crying.

As she left, she turned around one last time, throwing her ponytail over her shoulder. “Hey, Lance. Thanks for listening.”

The next day, Lotor came into the laboratory, followed by his three remaining generals. The generals were always quiet, generally they didn’t speak unless spoken to. But today, the quiet was different. Lance could tell it was more tense, sadder and more fragile.

“So I heard that you’ve been sneaking extra meals.” Lotor sneered. “Sadly for you, that’s no more. Perhaps if you would consider my request, we could make arrangements for a better diet for you.”

“How do you know about that?” Lance asked.

“You’re in my castle. There isn’t anything I don’t know about. Did you know that you cry out in your sleep in your native tongue? It’s quite amusing, really.”

Lance bit back all the things he wanted to say to Lotor instead choosing to answer his remark about his “request”.

“No, I will not grant your demand.” Lance said. “I won’t grant any wish you have.”

Lotor smiled, but Lance could tell he was losing his patience. “Your pride will be the end of you. If you don’t grant my wish, you’ll be bound in my capture forever!” Lotor snapped. “Don’t you know how this works? You’ll remain in servitude until the wish is granted!”

“I’d rather stay here forever than give you what you want.” Lance replied. “I know only harm will come from it if I do.”

“Zethrid, throw the switch. Increase the shock to 315 volts.”

“No.” Zethrid said, her voice calm, but unyielding.

“Excuse me?” Lotor said, turning away from the tank to face the generals.

“No,” Acxa said, stepping in front of the two other women. “We’re done fighting for you and following your orders.”

Lotor laughed bitterly. “And what brought upon this rebellion?”

“Narti was one of us, and you killed her.”

“For treason!”

“At least she didn’t free the prisoner like the brother you’re pardoning.”

“What are you talking about? Do you not understand that we need the mer’s cooperation to gain a foothold during the coronation ceremony?”

“I understand perfectly fine.” Acxa said coldly. “I also understand that we won’t be helping you during the ceremony either.” Zethrid and Ezor nodded, their arms crossed firmly.

“You can’t do that!” Lotor seethed. “You’re employed by _me_ and the Kral Zera is _tomorrow_. If you leave, you’ll be declared as traitors to the empire!”

“You declared Narti as a traitor too.” Ezor said. “I guess we’re all going down as traitors.”

As the three women turned around, Ezor made brief eye contact with Lance. Out of Lotor’s eye sight, Lance nodded, raising a hand in farewell.

The three generals exited the room without looking back, leaving behind the man they had once hailed as their leader and their prince.

With his teeth grit and his fingers clenched, Lotor stormed out the room after them, forgetting entirely about Lance.

  
*

  
Keith clicked his fingers impatiently. As the hour for the coronation ceremony drew closer, he got more anxious. Whatever Lotor wanted Lance for, he was sure it had something to do with the Kral Zera.

“Are we clear yet?” Keith asked, pressing a button on Pidge’s device.

“Not quite yet. The messenger hasn’t come back yet.” Kolivan replied, his voice sounding tinny and far away.

Unknown to Keith, Pidge had spent months working on a recorder that would record the sound of music. When the Blade and the _Red Lion’s_ crew began talking about how they would stay in touch during the mission, Pidge had started theorizing an idea.

“If I just change some of the mechanics, I can make this into a two way device.” Pidge had explained. “Instead of just recording the sound, it will record your voice and send it to the other group, who can play it and then send a message back.”

“But you only have one,” Keith pointed out.

Pidge reached into her pocket and drew out another recorder, identical to her own, except that it had the design of a seashell carved into it. “Actually, I was trying to make a waterproof version for Lance as a surprise. I haven’t quite figured it out yet though.”

“Nice!” Hunk said, giving her a high-five. “Do you really think you can make this work on such short notice?”

Pidge considered the devices in her hands. “Yeah, I’ve think I have the right parts. I’ve been collecting bits at various ports for other projects. Could you give me a hand though? I want get this done as quickly as possible.”

“Of course!” Hunk replied.

The two had scampered off to go modify the recorder and about two and a half hours later, they had come back with a pair of headphones for each group and the new and improved devices.

“It’s not perfect, it still gets a bit of static sometimes, but it should do the job.” Pidge had said.

Now the plan was in action. Keith had explained that it was very likely that Lance was in the castle’s laboratory. Lotor would probably want to keep a close eye on Lance, and it was the only place they could easily store a giant tank of water. He wasn’t sure where Shiro would be, but the castle’s dungeon was down the hall from the lab, so either way, it would be the same section of the castle. The Blade had infiltrated the castle as spies and would take out as many guards as they could on the route. When they were done, a messenger would be sent to Kolivan, who would report to the crew that it was safe to enter.

“Okay, according to Antok, all of the guards stationed at those posts should be taken care of. They’ve only been knocked out, so I’d advise that you get in and out.” Kolivan advised over the recording. “This is where the Blade pulls out, so I wish you and your team luck, Keith.”

Keith pressed the button on the recorder and sent the message. “Thanks for your help, guys.” He turned to the crew. “Let’s go.”

As they edged around the side of the castle, Keith ran his hand along the stones. He stopped so suddenly that Pidge ran straight into his back.

“Hey!” She complained, rubbing her nose.

“The servant’s entrance is here.” Keith said, pushing a stone inwards and revealing a dark corridor behind it.

“How did you even know that?” Hunk asked. “It totally blended in with the wall.”

“I used to live here,” Keith reminded him. “I used this entrance more than once to sneak out.”

At the end of the corridor, there was another discreet door, one that lead into the castle’s hallway.

“Wow,” Allura said, looking at the floor littered with unconscious soldiers. “The Blade is quite efficient.”

“Quite,” Keith agreed. “Let’s not waste what limited time we have.”

Together, they hurried down the hall, where the building curved to lead to the laboratory and the dungeons.

Just as Keith was about to run to the lab’s doors, Allura pulled him back. “Everyone hide!” She whispered as she dragged Keith along with her.

Keith realized why as the doors to the lab swung open. Lotor appeared first, dressed in his finest for the coronation, his hair shiny and well brushed. Following him, two guards appeared pushing a large glass tank. Keith would have lunged forwards if Allura hadn’t been holding him back. Inside the tank, was Lance. His once beautiful dark blue tail had faded to an off sort of grey, cramped against the glass.

Hunk made an involuntary little gasp, and Pidge grasped his arm. Keith wasn’t sure if she was supporting him or herself. The guards wheeled the tank down the hall to the nearest lift and the group filed on.

As the doors slid shut, Allura released Keith. “We need to follow them.”

“It’s time for the Kral Zera.” Keith noted. “They’re probably going to the courtyard.”

  
*

  
On the morning of the coronation ceremony, Lance had woken up to two guards rocking his tank back and forth as they tried to get it on a rolling cart. Lotor was supervising, dressed elegantly in preparation for the ceremony.

When he saw Lance was awake he smiled bitterly. “Are you ready to grant my wish yet, pet?”

“In your dreams,” Lance responded. Lotor sneered at him.

One of the men set up a ladder and opened the top of the tank. Without a word, he reached in and grabbed Lance’s tail. Lance shouted in protest and tried to claw him, but the guard easily pulled out of his reach, tail still firmly in his grip. He injected the inhibiting liquid, which made Lance flinch, but only out of instinct. Between Haggar and Lotor, he had been injected so many times that his body was no longer surprised to be fed the liquid.

“Take him to the lift, boys.” Lotor instructed.

As the two men rolled him out of the room, he could feel his stomach rolling along with the wheels of the cart. The sickening sensation only got worse on the lift as they entered the box and magically moved upwards. The only thing worse than being stuck in a tiny tank, was being stuck in a tiny, moving tank.

They arrived at a large courtyard, where many Galrans were bickering amongst themselves. There was many people spread throughout the plateau, but most of them seemed to be congregated around three groups. A heavily armored man, covered in spikes with a weapon just as sharp in his hand, stood at the ready, surrounded by his supporters. Lance didn’t need an introduction to know he was a warlord. His very being screamed violence and brutality. Across the path, a woman stood silently, her arms crossed. Her eyes flicked from one group to the next. She seemed to have a following of other high ranking officials. Next to her there was a short and stout man with complex eyewear. He seemed to have the smallest following, but he glanced around at the other officials, jotting down notes on a clipboard.

Off to the side, stood Haggar, flanked by all of Lotor’s formal generals. By her side, was a tall man with a large prosthetic arm, glowering at everyone. Lance felt a shiver run down his scales when he saw her, a sense of dread clawing up his spine. From the way Lotor’s face tightened, he could tell he wasn’t too happy either.

Tension was set over the courtyard like a fog, thick and weighted. The officials were all glowering at each other, bickering amongst themselves.There was a wide variety of weapons, from swords to battle axes, but all of them stood at the ready. Lance nervously slapped his tail against the glass, surveying all the Galrans. Despite the infectious mood, the courtyard was magnificently designed, both intimidating and dazzling.

Everyone was crowded around the base of a set of stairs, where a giant fire danced inside a pit. Set atop the many flights of stairs, a large pointed statue reached for the sky, towering over everything in the vicinity.

“This is your last chance,” Lotor hissed. “Help me and I’ll help you.”

“I told you, I’d rather be a prisoner forever than help you.”

Lotor bared his teeth, slamming his fist against the glass, “I swear to god, I’ll let all of these people gawk at you in this tiny tank for the rest of your life! Give me your power!”

Lance looked at him sadly. “No. There’s only one person I’ll give my magic to, and it’s not you.”

Lotor slammed his fist on the glass again, his mouth poised to continue arguing, but just as he was about to speak, someone went flying, skidding onto the ground behind them. Lotor turned around to see the warlord standing on the steps, dusting his hands off. “This isn’t a challenge for the weak! The throne is for real fighters!” He bellowed.

“Be quiet!” The woman snarled, her lips set in a cruel sneer. “The archivist is ready!”

Upon the top of the stairs, a masked figure had appeared. When the crowd was silent, an eerie voice rang out from behind the mask.

“During times of peace and times of expanse, this flame has burned for over 13 millennia, from the Galrans of old to our latest and greatest leader, Zarkon. But his time as passed and it’s time for our next ruler must ascend the steps of destiny and relight the Kral Zera.”

The archivist stared out at the crowd for a minute before disappearing again. The silence lingered in their absence.

The warlord who had taken out the other Galran official stepped into the fold. “I have been on the battlefield and spread the glory of the empire, rather than getting fat on the victories of our forefathers. As your king, I’m sure I could make Galra an even greater nation.”

The large man who had been standing behind Haggar stepped into the fold. He clenched the fist of his oversized prosthetic arm as Haggar gestured to him. “That is why Sendak, the strongest of the Galra should light the flame. He was Zarkon’s right hand and a brilliant commander. He will lead the empire for years to come.”

Lotor shot one last irritated look at Lance before he strode into the frey. With the flick of his cloak, he spread his arms wide.

“Neither of you are deserving of the throne,” he said. “Everyone, your true emperor has arrived!”

There was a chorus of murmurs as everyone surveyed the prince.

Sendak threw back his head and laughed a deep throaty laugh. “You? Lead the Galra empire? What could possibly make you think you could be emperor?”

“Give it up, Lotor,” Haggar sneered. “You’re not fit for the throne.”

Lotor narrowed his eyes and swiftly turned to face the rest of his audience, painting a regal smile on his face. “I know the rumors that have been going around, and as you can see, they’re true. I’ve done what no one else could do; capture a mer. I’m sure many of you know what prosper a merfolk can bring to Galra.”

“Or what prosper he can bring _you_ ,” someone muttered.

Lotor pursed his lips.

“I have done what no other Galra has done since the early days of my father’s reign!” Lotor swept his arms towards Lance’s tank. “I’ve caught a merman, one of the forgotten species who, as the legends say, can solve this country’s problems! If my bloodline wasn’t enough to validate my right to the throne, surely this does!”

The officials didn’t seem to like Lotor very much, but their supporters did. When he had finished his speech, many of them clapped and cheered, only falling silent when they noticed the glowers the officials were giving them.

Lotor smiled smugly, the whites of his teeth shining as he looked around at the crowd and then let his eyes drift over Lance’s tank.

Suddenly, seemingly from the shadows, armored warriors with their hoods drawn up rushed at the high officials. Every official suddenly found themselves locked in combat with no warning. Although the Blade members went around him, Keith was just as surprised as the officials were. Kolivan had told him that the Blade was withdrawing from the fight.

A Blade member ran up to his side, lowering his hood. Thace grinned. “I convinced some of the Blade members to lend you a hand. I figured this fight was far from over.”

“How did you convince them?” Keith asked incredulously.

Thace gave him a look. “You know, you did a lot for the Blade before you left. Most of the members remember that. Without you, we never would have gotten as many spies inside the castle as we did, or had the intel of someone like yourself.”

“Well, thanks for the help. You know I need it.”

Thace laughed. “Indeed, you do. I’m glad that you’ve learned how to ask for help. It’s an important skill for someone who gets himself into trouble as often as you do.” He pulled up his hood again and sprinted towards the battle. “Time to join the fight!”

Keith scanned the battleground. Haggar was here, but so was Lotor. Currently, Haggar was being protected by Acxa, Zethrid, and Ezor. He wasn’t sure what was really going on with that, but he didn’t care. The sight of Haggar made his blood boil with rage. Even though the generals were fighting members of the Blade, he knew they would never let him near Haggar. At least, not to kill her. A flash of white hair caught his eye and he found Lotor sprinting up the stairs to the ceremonial flame.

With a flick of his wrist, he had unsheathed his sword and was running after him. At the sound of his footsteps on the stairs, Lotor stopped and twisted around to look at him.

“I should have known you were the cause of all this chaos, I might have to thank you for making this so easy for me. Maybe your mer proved useful after all.”

“Couldn’t get him to share his magic with you?” Keith taunted.

“Your pet fish was a bit stubborn. But no matter.” Lotor grinned maliciously. “I always get what I want.”

“He’s not a pet,” Keith said. “And this time, you’re not getting anything.”

Lotor unsheathed his own sword, a dignified Galran broadsword. He and Keith ran at each other, Keith traveling up the stairs as Lotor descended them. Lotor spun the blade in a complicated fashion before swinging it back towards Keith.

“You won’t stop me, no one will prevent me from taking the throne that’s rightfully mine.”

Keith bared his teeth as he blocked the incoming strike with his sword.

“I don’t know how many times I have to explain to you that I have no interest in the throne,” Keith said. “I’m only here because you fucked with my friends.”

Lotor laughed, his voice rich and deep. “So brave, and yet so stupid. I wonder when you’ll learn little brother.”

“It doesn’t matter, you will pay the price for taking my friends!” Keith cried, rushing forward.

With another showy move, Lotor had twisted the sword again, and the two half-brothers were at each other’s necks in seconds. If the battlefield around them was any indication, the battle had begun.

Lance banged on the glass with both fists. Keith and Lotor were dueling on the stairs, but even from the tank he could see the toll it was taking on Keith’s body. The sweat poured off of Keith’s body, his muscles clenched with the effort it took to hold his sword as the curse devoured his energy.

As the battle commenced around them, Pidge and Hunk rushed over to Lance.

“Hold on buddy, we’re going to get you out of here!” Hunk said. He lifted Pidge up so that she could look at the top of the tank.

“No, someone needs to stop Keith! His curse is going to destroy him!”

Hunk cast a glance over his shoulder where Keith and Lotor where fighting. His brow knit together and his fingers tapping anxiously.

“Coran made him an energy booster before we left. He can hold out for now.”

“Hunk, that curse is going to kill him. Please help him,” Lance begged.

Hunk turned back to him, his eyes serious. “I want to. But as long as you’re in this tank, there’s no way he’s going to give up. If we get you out, maybe we can convince him to retreat.”

“Hunk, there’s no way I can get this lid off.” Pidge called. “It’s bolted on. There’s a door that opens, but I don’t think it’s big enough that Lance can fit through.”

“Rude,” Lance said.

Pidge opened the lid and stuck her tongue out at him. “Yeah, just as I thought, his ego’s too big to fit.”

Lance made a face and Hunk rolled his eyes. “How are we getting him out then?”

“I think we’re going to have to break it.” Pidge replied, jumping down from the lid.

Someone started to rush towards them, and Hunk fired his musketoon. They fell to their knees, clutching the hole in their chest.

“With what?” He asked. “It looks pretty thick.”

“It is.” Lance said. “Behind you!”

Hunk turned and fired his musketoon again. “Anyways. Do you think there’s like a hammer around here? Or a really big rock?”

_"Behind you!"_ Lance said again, more urgently this time.

“What do we have here?”

Pidge and Hunk turned around to find a Galran soldier towering over them. His heavy red armor was menacing, but not as much as his large clawed prosthetic arm. An eyeglass was fixed firmly over one eye.

Pidge pulled out her sword and pointed it at him. “Who are you?”

“Sendak, the future ruler of Galra.”

“The flame is over there.” Lance said dryly, pointing towards the stairs.”Or maybe you should get back to your master.”

Sendak casually glanced across the battlefield to where Haggar was currently being defended by Lotor’s former generals as members of the Blade cut and slashed their way across the warzone. “My _patron_ seems a bit occupied at this time. I’ve been here for a long time, and I know the history of this country and Zarkon. I know what you can do, mer. Why don’t you share some of that power with me?”

Hunk and Pidge stood in front of Lance’s tank defensively. “Leave him alone,” Hunk said, his hands shaking slightly as he aimed his gun.

“Stand aside,” Sendak sneered.

Pidge and Hunk didn’t move.

“I don’t really think you want to go at it with me.” He extended his unnatural arm, showing it with pride. “This is the latest model, stronger and faster than any other robotic alteration you can get equipped.”

When the two pirates still made no move, Sendak’s fist clenched, and he swung his arm back. Lance didn’t need to experience it to know that he would be a good hitter, and clearly neither did Pidge and Hunk. As he slammed his robotic arm down, Pidge and Hunk scattered in opposite directions, converging behind him.

He spun around, and as fast as lightning, snatched Pidge by the throat.

“Did you really think you could stop me?”

Pidge clawed at his fingers, flailing wildly as she attempted to make him let go. Her breath was coming out in short, strained puffs as her face grew progressively redder.

Hunk fired his gun, firing a bullet into an opening in Sendak’s armor. He grunted, releasing Pidge, who fell on her back and twisted out of Sendak’s reach, clutching her chest as she tried to catch her breath.

As Lance watched the fight unfold before him, he remembered something the Goddess had said to him. _I’ve been watching your shipwright and she’s improved greatly with that sword of hers._ Realization dawned on him. Lance banged his fists on the glass. “Pidge, remember what the Priestess said? Cut him down!”

Luckily, Pidge seemed to understand what he was talking about. Scrambling to her feet, Pidge slashed her cutlass upwards, landing a hit on his prosthetic arm. Lance closed his eyes and thought of the Goddess, praying she would come through on her blessing for Pidge sacrificing her blood, and consequently, the secret of her identity.

A glow illuminated Pidge’s sword as the blade cut through the weakest part of his arm. The arm clattered to the floor, a few mechanical parts spilling from the inside.

Sendak stumbled backwards, clutching the remaining joint of his arm. Occupied with howling in rage, he tripped over his giant arm and lost his balance, slamming into the tank. The force of his massive body was enough to make the tank tip, and Lance slammed his own body against the side, forcing it over entirely. He closed his eyes and wrapped his arms and tail around himself for protection. The glass hit the ground and shattered, gallons of water rushing out onto the ground.

Lance pulled himself out of the wreckage, trying to avoid getting any glass in his tail. As much as freshwater sickened him, he felt cold and exposed without it.

“Woah, was that a blessing from the Goddess?” Pidge asked, examining the blade of her cutlass with glee.

Lance rolled over in the puddle of water, trying to submerge his gills. “I don’t feel very blessed,” he coughed. Silently, he sent his thanks.

“Can’t you change into your human form?” Hunk asked.

“Can’t...they injected...me with...something,” Lance said, panting for air.

“Something? How long does it take to wear off?”

“Dunno, never been conscious long enough to find out.”

Pidge kneeled down next to Lance, the knees of her pants soaking instantly.

“We need to keep him hydrated, so he doesn’t dry out in the meantime.” She untied the bandanna that she usually wore, allowing her curly hair to spill into its natural messy state. She dipped the rag in the puddle and then pressed it to Lance’s gills. Instantly, his chest sagged in relief, some of the strain taken away.

Despite the battle that continued to rage around them, Hunk also took a scrap of his shirt and wet it, rubbing it against the scales of Lance’s tail. Lance enjoyed the slight scratching feeling, flicking the end of his tail every once in a while. Abruptly, he stopped.

“Oh my god, Lance.”

Lance propped himself up on one arm. “What is it?”

Hunk’s hand had frozen over a spot on his tail where there were two gaps, leading way to the vulnerable flesh underneath. His eyes met Lance’s. “I’m so sorry.”

Lance slowly laid back down, staring up at the clouded sky above them. “Don’t fucking look at me like that. It happened. There’s nothing you can do about it.”

Hunk and Pidge continued to wet his tail in silence, but their hands moved slower, more gently. He didn’t want to be seen as a broken thing. He wanted to go back to the _Red Lion_ and laugh with everyone, kiss Keith, and swim in the ocean.

He allowed his eyes to drift back over to the stairs, where Lotor and Keith were still engaged in the heat of battle.

Keith could taste the salt of his sweat on his lips. It poured down his face like rain and made his shirt stick to his back and chest. His fingers had gone red with the strain of holding his sword, but he couldn’t let go.

He couldn’t let go until this was over. Whatever over meant. He jumped down a step as Lotor came at him, narrowly missing the swipe of his blade. He swung his own sword in retaliation, but Lotor leaped out of the way. Keith continued advancing, letting there be no moment of peace in between swings. Lotor easily swayed around the blade until he finally lifted his sword, parrying the attack.

As fast as Lotor moved, Keith forced himself to move faster. He let his body react without thinking, letting his muscles remember what motions they should make with the sword. There was a reason he had spent so much time in the training yard during his youth. His muscle memory was impeccable, ignoring the fact that his muscles were screaming in pain.

Lotor moved with the grace he always seemed to have, flourishing his sword easily, arching it behind him and over his shoulder in strong swipes as if weightless. Despite the ceremonial robes he wore over his armor, he barely seemed to have broken a sweat.

When his sword was about a foot away from Keith’s chest, Keith dropped to the ground, rolled clear and stood.

Lotor cursed, going in for another swipe. Keith met his blade with his own, pushing Lotor back. Lotor’s eyes flickered down to the blade in his hand, the one that was shaking ever so slightly. He lurched backwards, sliding across the step. He used his free hand to steady himself by sliding it against the ground, his sword held aloft with his other.

Smoothly, Lotor’s hand jerked forwards, stabbing at his ribcage. Keith tried to block the strike, but his hands were shaking too badly. Lotor’s blade glanced the side of his torso, hooking onto the skin and slashing deeply. The pain was sharp and hot in his side, but Keith didn’t look down as his blood splattered onto the stairs. He glowered at Lotor, looking straight into his cold, cruel eyes.  
“Stand aside,” Lotor said, pushing his hair from his face. “You can’t win this. You are nothing but a child who ran away from home and puts his feelings over common sense. You’re no match for me.”

Keith screamed in response, flying at him with his sword drawn. Their swords clanged together, the metal interlocking with each thrust. Keith placed all his frustration into his sword, using his emotion to push his leaden legs forward, to add momentum behind his strike.

_Don’t lose don’t lose don’t lose_

He couldn’t think, couldn’t focus on anything except the scene before him. His thoughts were as sharp as the blades, trying to keep pace with the fight at hand.

He rushed towards the prince again, not unlike the way he had before. But instead of coming straight on, at the last second, he sidestepped and jerked the blade in another direction, coming at Lotor from a different angle. Lotor quickly moved to readjust himself, barely finding the time to block. His face remained impassive, but the giveaway to Lotor’s struggle came when he started using both hands to grasp the hilt of his sword, adding stability to his stance.

Keith fought back a grin. Maybe he _could_ win this fight. He felt a fraction of the exhaustion lift from his shoulders as a new source of adrenaline pumped through his veins.

Just as he thought that, he realized that he had left himself open. Lotor slammed his sword down, knocking Keith’s out of his hand. It clanged against the steps and Keith watched in desperation as it skittered a few feet away from him.

Taking advantage of Keith’s distraction, Lotor moved to strike again. His sword flashed against Keith’s leg. His leg gave way, and Keith fell to his knee, moaning in pain. The blood was free flowing, quickly staining the cloth around the wound, but he couldn’t let this be the end.

He had to get up. Up. Move damned body! Without really knowing how he did it, he was on his feet, swaying as he tried to keep his balance on the stairs. He stumbled backwards, almost falling to his knees again as he reached for his sword. Blinking the black spots out of his eyes, he went to pick it up, but Lotor laid one of his heavy, war-ready boots onto the blade.

“Surrender,” He snarled.

Keith looked down at his trapped blade, his hair falling over his eyes. His back sagged as he hunched towards the ground. He heard Lotor sigh in satisfaction, and he assumed it meant that he had lowered his blade too. That was all Keith needed.

With one final burst of energy, he leaped to his feet, letting his fist fly towards Lotor’s face. Lotor’s eyes were wide with shock, but his instincts allowed him to duck out of the way of Keith’s incoming fist.

Unfortunately for him, it had been what Keith was expecting. At the same time that Lotor ducked, Keith brought his knee up to his chest. His leg slammed into Lotor, and blood sprayed into the air, followed by a distinct cracking sound.

Lotor, covered in a mixture of Keith’s and his blood, dropped his sword and tumbled down the stairs. His nose was clearly broken as blood gushed from it, and his leg was twisted at an unnatural angle. The prince laid unmoving at the bottom of the stairs. Keith crouched on the steps watching until he could see the slow rise and fall of Lotor’s chest.

He scanned the premises for Haggar, but he didn’t see the witch anywhere. His heart leapt as he laid eyes on Lance, lying in a puddle of water and broken glass across the yard. Hunk and Pidge were huddled by his side.

They locked eyes and although he was too far away to hear, he saw Lance mouth his name. He started jogging towards them, weaving around thrown fists and sword fights. He could already feel his adrenaline rush ending as the exhaustion set in. All he wanted to do was sit down next to Lance and make sure he was okay.

“I knew you’d return to Galra. Maybe you’ll assume the throne now.””

Time slowed to nothing. The clanging of swords, the yelling of the Galrans faded to silence. He could see Lance, but he had to turn around. When he did, he almost wished he hadn’t; he felt weak at the knees.

Haggar stood there, her hood shadowing her face, but not enough to hide her smirk. The generals were no longer with her, but in front of her, stood Shiro.

Except he wasn’t really Shiro. He wasn’t the Shiro that Keith had met in a prison cell, or the Shiro he had known as a commander and a captain and a friend. He was wearing his Altean armor, but his hair was long and unkempt. But even more unsettling than that, his arm was replaced with a robotic prosthetic and his eyes glowed a violent yellow.

“Shiro?” Keith whispered. Something was caught in his throat. Something that had curled up and died there.

Shiro didn’t respond. His face didn’t even twitch. Haggar laughed loudly.

Keith clenched his fist. “I’m going to kill you,” he growled.

Haggar cackled. “You’ll have to go through him first!”

Keith screamed, launching himself at Haggar. He tried to duck around Shiro and get straight to her, but Shiro swiped his robotic hand at him, hitting him in the gut and sending him flying backwards.

He slammed into the ground, tumbling over himself. Keith struggled for breath, clutching his stomach as he stood.

“Shiro, Shiro, please, it’s me.” He said weakly. “I don’t want to fight you.”

Shiro stepped towards him.

“Please,” Keith said again. “I’ve been looking for you this whole time. It’s all going to be okay now.”

Shiro’s hand started to glow white hot.

Keith could hear Lance screaming in the background, could hear Pidge yelling at him to move, Hunk calling for Shiro. He didn’t know where Allura was, and he didn't want to know. He didn’t know what he’d say to her when she saw Shiro’s state.

Shiro advanced, until he was about a foot away. He moved to punch Keith again, but some unconscious force within Keith forced him to dodge out of the way.

“What have you done?” He screamed. “What have you done, you witch!”

“He’s my fighter now!” Haggar said gleefully. “He’s cursed, just like you, and it will never be lifted unless you kill me! But he won’t stop until he dies, and you’ll never kill him!”

Keith screamed again, a sound of pure rage and pain. He gripped the hilt of his sword and rushed at Shiro, swinging wildly. Shiro darted away from every swing until Keith backed him into a corner. Keith brought the sword down, but Shiro snatched it with his newly equipped arm. He kicked his leg up, tripping Keith and leaving an opening for himself to escape.

“We need to help him!” Lance exclaimed.

Pidge worried at the edges of her fingertips. “I don’t know what to do.”

Shiro had retreated back to Haggar, who was only standing a stone’s throw away from the trio. He waited with his hand at the ready, but he wasn’t paying any attention to them.

“He might be within range,” Hunk said, picking up his musketoon and attempting to take aim. “Damn it, there’s no good vulnerability in this position with his armor on.”

Keith chased him, swinging his sword again. He brought it down hard with a clang against Shiro’s prosthetic. Shiro knocked him back again and then the two went again.

Shiro lifted his weaponized hand to Keith’s throat just as Keith leveled his sword at Shiro’s. Shiro’s unfamiliar yellow eyes stared down at him unblinkingly. He didn’t even seem to recognize him.

“I don’t want to fight you!” Keith said, anguished.

“Then don’t.” A voice said. “Leave him to me. You take care of the witch.”

Keith jumped back out of Shiro’s range and looked over his shoulder. Allura had appeared from the midst of battle. Her armor was dirty and her face stained in blood, but he could still see the gleam of Altea’s colors underneath the dirt. Her hair blew in the wind and her face glowed as if she was blessed by the gods themselves.

Her mouth was set in a hard line, her eyes filled with sorrow, but more than that, they were filled with determination. Her hand held her broadsword steady, the engraving on the blade glinting in the light.

“Killing that bitch will solve all our problems, right? I’ll hold Shiro off.”

Shiro seemed to have trouble understanding that his target had changed as he looked from Keith to Allura, but he picked up the idea pretty quickly when Allura started advancing on him with no hesitation.

She was relentless, a whirlwind on the battlefield, hacking and slashing. In the space of the courtyard, she had the freedom to use her sword the way it was meant to be used. Shiro dodged and blocked, but he seemed like he was having a hard time keeping up.

Meanwhile, Keith rushed at Haggar. Without protection, she was forced to start defending herself against him. She spread her hands, stretching her fingers outward and chanted something under her breath. A moment later, a barrier formed around her body. Keith crashed into it, and cried out as the magic shocked him.

“No fighting for you,” she chided, “unless you came back to help me take the throne, perhaps?”

“Over my dead body,” he replied.

Taking his sword in both hands, he slammed the blade of his sword down into it. Naturally, the blade didn’t do any harm, but he kept at it, over and over again, adding more strength to each hit. Haggar stumbled backwards, her barrier flickering. Keith took advantage of the gap, stepping into her range.

As Allura swung her broadsword, Shiro went down to his knees, expertly rolling out of the way to dodge her swings. His legs twisted into a fighting stance as he stood and he cut his hand towards Allura.

Almost too late, she noticed that whatever magic powered his arm also gave his hand the ability to be as sharp as a knife when slicing towards his enemy. She caught his hand just before it could strike her. He tore it from her grip, pulling his arm back and going in for the punch.  
Allura dodged, twisting her hips to land a kick. Shiro stumbled and Allura moved in to grab him and hurl him as far as she could. He drew his arms around himself as he smashed into the ground, rolling to absorb as much of the force as possible. When he sat up, his eyes were still colored yellow, but he looked a bit unsteady.

“Shiro,” she said. “It’s me. Snap out of it. You don’t need to protect the witch. We don’t want to fight you.”

Shiro blinked a few times, trying to focus on her voice. He stood, placing his normal hand on his knee to push himself up.

He stepped towards her, not breaking his gaze. Allura forced herself not to flinch.

“These are your friends, and you’re the commander of the Altean army, you were temporarily stationed on a merchant ship, remember?” She cracked a small smile. “Remember how you said this was going to be an easy mission, and that you’d be back before I even had time to miss you?” Allura sniffed, wiping a tear from the corner of her eye. “I think you overestimated the amount of time it would take for me to miss you.”

Shiro blinked, his lips parted, like he was going to say something. Then his mouth closed and his face became just as passive as it had been before.

He placed a hand on Allura’s shoulder, and with one smooth movement, flipped her into the air and tossed her like a ragdoll. She skidded against the ground, and as Shiro approached again, she fumbled for her sword.

His eyes were blank and expressionless, but as she picked herself up and readied her sword, hope shone in hers.

No longer able to cast a barrier with Keith in the vicinity, Haggar cursed, narrowing her eyes. Keith wiped the sweat from his forehead. His chest felt tight and his ribcage shook in pain with every breath.

With his teeth grit, he slashed his sword again, nicking Haggar across the shoulder. The sleeve of her robes tore, and she clutched her arm as blood flowed freely.

With her free hand, she stabbed her fingers towards him, shooting a bolt of pink lightning. Keith hit the ground, dropping his sword and rolling out of the way. He yanked his dagger from the sheath on his belt and shoved the blade towards her legs. She jumped out of the way, moving to kick him as he clambered to his feet. His chest convulsed as he panted for breath, and his knife felt heavy in his hand.

With a hiss, Haggar summoned a ball of black magic, flickering with the burn of pink lightning. Faster than even the bolts of lightning before, she whisked the ball at Keith. It smashed against his body, fracturing around him. Keith cried out as the electricity shot through his veins, smoking his from the inside out. He flew backwards, slamming into the ground.

From his position in the puddle, Lance watched the battle anxiously.

 The sound of Keith collapsing to ground was louder than any thunderstorm Lance had ever experienced. His body looked so still, but not in the way that it did when Lance was watching him sleep. When Keith slept, he looked at ease, but now he just looked… beaten.

When Keith hit the ground, Pidge and Hunk gasped audibly next to him. A horrible feeling sat heavy in his stomach and as Keith laid there unmoving, the feeling grew worse. It felt like he had swallowed an anchor, and now that anchor was falling through his stomach, tearing everything in its path as it went.

He looked so small and downtrodden. Even when his curse had weakened him and made him sick, he hadn’t looked like this. Lance couldn’t tell if his chest was rising up and down.

“Keith!” He screamed. “Keith!”

He could feel Pidge and Hunk sheltering him, could see Allura falter in her fight to look at Keith. Shiro took advantage of her distraction and punched her hard enough to cause her to stumble and fall to the ground.

Lance closed his eyes. He breathed deeply, focusing on every part of his body from his fingertips to the very tip of his tail. He imagined the scales fading, his tail splitting into two.

When he opened his eyes, he was frustrated to find that his tail remained. He buried his fingers into the sand and took another deep breath. This would never work if he was frustrated.

_Please Goddess, I need your help,_ he thought. _Keith needs my help._ He focused on centering himself again, on thinking about what he wanted to accomplish. Any remaining numbness in his tail faded away. There was a spasm of pain as his tail morphed into two and he gradually felt his scales smooth out into skin.

When he opened his eyes again, Hunk and Pidge were staring at his legs, mouth agape.

“I’ve never actually watched it happen,” Pidge said in wonder.

“It’s a little creepy, actually,” Hunk said, looking a bit sick.

Lance struggled to his feet, one foot and then the other. His muscles felt locked up and tight from not having been used in so long. He dragged himself past Keith, until he was standing between him and Haggar.

“Oh, so the fish thinks he can best me now, hmm?” Haggar leered. “I think you should just leave while you have the chance.”

“I’m not leaving without Keith and Shiro.” Lance replied. “And you’re not leaving at all. Your reign of terror is coming to an end now.”

Allura had turned her attention back to her fight, but Lance knew she was still paying attention to what was going on.

“I’m going to kill you, and then we’re all going home.”

Haggar cackled again. “I’d love to see what a fish like you can do so far from the ocean.”

Now it was Lance’s turn to smirk. “I don’t need the ocean.”

With some concentration, he drew the water from the tank’s puddle and formed a whip. He lashed it at Haggar, who brought up a barrier to block his attack.

When he drew his whip back, she dropped her barrier. Like she had done with Keith, she created a ball of magic in her hands.

She threw it at him, but with the flick of his whip, he hit the ball and it careened into the ground with a burst of energy and smoke exploding.

Haggar screamed with rage, forcing the smoke to disperse.

She thrust her hands towards him, power pouring out of her body. A wave of magic rushed over him in a constant stream, shocking him. During his time as a captive, he had grown used to extreme electrical shock thanks to the voltage he had experienced at Lotor’s hands, but this was different. Her electricity was rooted in ancient magic, in the hatred and malice required to cast a curse.

As he pushed through the pain, forcing his muscles to work through the spasm, the wind whipped around him. His vision became hazy for a minute, and his eyes began glowing blue, just as they had the day he lost control. But he had never felt more in control than he did in this moment. He felt his body rise from the ground slightly, his own energy lifting him. When he looked down at his skin, it was bathed in a blue light. The pain of the witch’s magic faded as he began to absorb it. It began to fuel his own power. Haggar looked at him wide eyed.

“Impossible!” She shrieked. She swung her hands, and another ball of volatile magic materialized. Lance could hear the cracking of the lightning inside it as it flew at him. Once again, he swerved out of the way, flinging his whip at it as quickly as possible.

His magic seemed to slow, the water wrapping her magic within itself. He pushed the energy back towards her, advancing languidly.

“No!” She screamed. Her voice sounded labored with the amount of energy she was channeling. “It’s too late anyways, killing me won’t help!”

Overwhelmed by her own power, she was forced to her knees. The stream of magic she was channeling broke, and her body sagged with the effort. The water that formed Lance’s whip morphed into a sword. It held its shape as if it was crafted out of metal, but it was translucent and glowed vaguely as his power was channeled into it.

“I already know that killing you reverses the effects of all your curses. But even if I didn’t, you stole my scales. You took advantage of another mermaid before me. It’s time to pay your dues, witch.”

Haggar’s hood fell, exposing her face. Her hair was whisked by the wind as Lance brought his sword down, plunging it into her chest. Sharp as a knife, the water cut into her chest and dragged her down. Her breath caught, her chest jerking one final time as her eyes glazed over. The sword dissolved in Lance’s hands, returning to water, and mixing with the staining blood.

Instantly, Shiro crumpled to the ground, Allura followed him, her sword going limp in her hand.  
The pair were head to head, Allura murmuring things to Shiro. His fingers were clenched, the nails biting into his palms, his back tight with stress.

Lance found himself at Keith’s side. He shook Keith by the shoulder.

“Keith, she’s gone. She’s dead. You’re going to be okay.”

Keith’s body slumped forward, his nose in the dirt as Lance shook him. He couldn’t see his chest rising and falling.

“Come on, Keith. The curse is lifted now. Keith!” Tears trickled down his face. Above, the sky opened up, the grey clouds parting to allow heavy tears to fall from the heavens.

“Keith?”

Thace stood above them, cleared of whatever fights he had been apart of. He was dirty and bloodied, but for the most part he looked no worse for wear. At the sight of Keith, he sank to his knees. His eyes stared at Keith in disbelief.

“Oh god, Keith. Oh god,”

A moment later, Pidge and Hunk joined them too. Hunk laid a hand on his shoulder, rubbing it softly.

“He’s gone, buddy. We were too late.”

“You did everything you could,” Pidge said. “You can’t reverse a curse after it’s been fulfilled,”

“No,” Lance insisted, pulling away from their touch. “He can’t be dead! He can’t be… he…”

He pulled Keith’s body into his arms, pushing his long, dark hair away from his face. His flesh was still warm, and the raindrops landed on his face like tears. When he nuzzled his face into the crook of Keith’s neck, it felt no different than usual, smelled no different than usual. The only difference was how limp he was in his arms.

There was no movement, not the flexing of a muscle, the push and pull of his chest, as strong as the waves, or the tickle of his breath against his ear. There was nothing but an empty shell of what once was.

He looked upwards at the sky. It was just as beautiful as always, a maelstrom of greys and blacks, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. Without Keith, the sky lost all its color.

“You promised!” He screamed. “You promised that he wouldn’t die! His curse should have been broken! He can’t die, I… I can’t let him die. I need your help… please. Please help me save him.” The last part was mumbled as he collapsed onto Keith’s chest, fisting his hands in his shirt.

The wind blew, ruffling his hair and whispering in his ear. _Your healing magic...it will give you the power, but at a cost._

“A cost?” Lance asked, wiping the tears away from his eyes. Free from the clutches of captivity, he found that he no longer cared about himself. He didn’t care what the cost was.

_Curing death requires an equal exchange._

With Keith curled in his arms, he closed his eyes, mustering any bit of power he had left. The Priestess had told him “the stronger his intention, the better the heal”, so he imagined a cord attached between his body and Keith’s. He imagined transferring his blood, his life, his spirit into Keith’s. He imagined Keith pacing across the floor, swinging his swords in graceful arches, his muscles flexing with each strike, his fingers dragging across Lance’s skin, caressing his cheek. He imagined pulling the exhaustion from Keith’s body. He never wanted to see him this still again, even if it was just the flutter of his eyelashes as he slept, or the slightest contraction of his chest.

Yeah, Keith had captured him. His heart was snared in a net, and fighting it was no use. He was so helplessly caught. But he wasn’t a victim, or a prize of Keith’s. He wanted to give his heart to Keith. He wanted to give him his everything.

“Lance, whatever you’re doing-” Pidge started. Her words trailed off when Lance opened his eyes.The entirety of his eye glowed a brilliant blue once again.

Unlike the previous times that the crew had witnessed Lance’s extreme deluge of power, this time his facial markings were starting to glow. The light painted his face, which was as smooth as the ocean on a calm day. It flowed down to his hands, bathing Keith’s skin in the same comforting light.

Lance could feel the power inside him. He felt electrified, like he had been struck by lightning and the energy was itching to burst out of his fingertips. He forced the energy to channel towards Keith’s body and slowly, the slashes on Keith’s skin began to sew themselves back together, leaving behind smooth pink skin crusted around the edges with a bit of dried blood.

His vision blurred in and out of focus. One minute he was looking down at Keith, and the next his hands were smaller, his fingers thinner, and the body on the ground belonged to a young woman. The gash across her chest spilled her blood, staining the grass around her a rust color. The wound slowly stitched back together, the woman whimpering in pain. When he blinked, he was back with Keith.

It was like he was the Goddess, fusing with her power, siphoning her noted healing skills. He was torn between two times, the present and the past, Keith and the Goddess’ human love. His head swam with the amount of power going through his body.

_Heal, heal, please heal, come on… you can’t die.... You can’t let her...him...die…_

His thoughts swirled around in his head, fast and jumbled. As he flickered between times and settings, he could no longer tell what thoughts belonged to him, and which didn’t. There was a body, but with each passing minute, the exhaustion seemed to grow. His shoulders felt heavy, and his eyes burned.

He reached a hand out to stroke Keith’s hair and a second later, his dark hair had become even longer, spilling over the tips of his fingers. He closed his eyes, forcing himself to stay present in the moment. When he opened them, his hands were intertwined with the hair at Keith’s nape once again.

Channeling as much intention as he could, he forced all his thoughts towards Keith, pushing every ounce of emotion through his hands. The blue glow grew more intense for a minute before flickering and exploding.

Keith’s eyes fluttered open, his eyes gray with the reflection of the sky. His eyes drifted finding Lance’s face just as the blue glow faded from his eyes and drained out of his face. One of his hands was curled in Keith’s hair, and the other fell limply to his chest.

With effort, Keith’s hand shakily crawled up to weave itself with Lance’s. He could feel his heartbeat pulsing quickly.

“Lance,” he said. The mer looked paler than usual, and his chest moved with the effort of trying to catch his breath, but he gave Keith the most brilliant, blinding smile, the corners of his eyes crinkling.

And then he collapsed to the ground next to him.

“Lance?”

“Lance!” Hunk and Pidge ran to his side, rolling the mer over onto his back. Keith sat up, his mind struggling to get on the same page as everyone else. Thace reached out for him, embracing him by the shoulders and pulling him away from Lance’s body.

Scales were beginning to crawl up Lance’s flesh, peppering his legs and arms. Slowly, he was losing control over his human form as his legs morphed back into a tail and gills opened up along his ribcage. Without water, his gills spasmed with overstimulation. Pidge and Hunk pulled out wet rags, dabbing at his skin.

In the space where no one stood, there was suddenly a woman. Keith blinked, rubbing his eyes, but everyone else looked just as surprised. She wasn’t a giant glowing mermaid anymore, but her face was incredibly familiar.

“You’re the Goddess,” He said.

“Wait, really?” Hunk asked, eyes wide. “Like the Goddess?”

“Yes,” she replied.

Keith pulled himself from Thace’s grip, planting himself in front of Lance’s body at her feet.

“Lance is dying,” he swallowed as the words stuck in his throat. “Is there anything you can do?”

“I can ease his suffering. I promised that he was going to be okay,” she looked up at the sky. “It’s the least I could do.”

“Can’t you save him?” Keith said, hating how desperate his voice sounded. “You’re a goddess, there has to be something,”

“He sacrificed his life for yours. He knew the consequences.” She looked down at Lance’s gasping body almost regretfully.

“The Goddess’ gift,” Keith said. “Lance told me that you meant for it to be something to help humans, something to nurse the relationship between merfolk and humans. I want to return the gift to him. I want to use it to save him.”

The Goddess blinked, rubbing the skin of her arm thoughtfully.

“ _Please_. He’s not dead yet, we can still save him,” Keith pleaded. “I have no healing ability, but I can’t lose him. I’m asking for your help. Please help me.”

“I can grant you the power to heal him with your wish, but curing death requires a sacrifice of equal exchange.”

Keith fell silent, rubbing his thumb along the marking under Lance’s eye. Lance’s eyes had closed, his breathing labored. Keith lowered his head to the mer’s chest, trying to hear the faint beating of his heart in his chest. He had nothing to sacrifice. If he gave up his life again, it would be a never ending cycle of resurrections and watching each other die. He nuzzled his face deeper into Lance’s chest, breathing in the scent of salt on Lance’s skin.

Lance had given up his life to save him. The mer who had originally wanted nothing to do with him, the boy that he later shared his bed with. And he couldn’t do the same. There was nothing he could do.

Pidge’s voice broke the silence. “What if everyone sacrificed a fraction of their life? Would no one have to die?”

The Goddess paused, twisting her dark hair between her fingers. “Theoretically,” She said slowly. “But you are all human, and I can’t say how much life you would lose between the three of you.”

“What about the five of us?”

The group turned around to see Allura and Shiro standing hand in hand. Shiro offered them a small smile. “Would it be enough?”

‘It would certainly ease the burden,” The Goddess said. “If this is what your collective decision is, I will aid you.”

Keith looked at Shiro. “Are you sure Shiro?”

Shiro nodded. “I don’t really know who he is, but I can tell that he’s important to you. Anyone who’s important to you is important to me. Besides, if he’s your boyfriend, we’re going to need to have a talk.”

Keith flushed bright pink, coughing into his hand. The other crew members laughed. With the potential for a solution and the fire of hope ablaze, some of the tension had burned away.

“Everyone place a hand on his body,” The Goddess instructed. “You’ll need to think about him, in order to heal someone, especially from the brink of death, you have to put all your emotions into it. The stronger the intention, the better the heal.”

Looking at Lance made the crew grow somber again. His eyes were glossy, pupils dilated as he looked up at the sky. His usual clear blue eyes were clouded over with grey, colorless, all the light drained. His body was so still, Keith almost thought he had died, until he heard the quietest hiss of air escaped from his lips. The quiet was almost as unsettling as his stillness. If Lance wasn’t moving, he was talking. Often he was doing both. Every bit of him was loud, from his voice, to his laugh, to his presence. He was like the embodiment of life itself and to see him like this just felt...wrong.

The five settled around Lance’s prone body. Hunk and Pidge each grasped one of Lance’s hands. Hunk threaded his fingers with Lance’s and squeezed them.  
“You’ll be okay, buddy. Stay with us.”

Shiro placed his natural hand on the base of Lance’s tail. His fingers twitched and he rubbed the scales, surprised to find that they were so smooth. He looked at Keith and nodded. Allura held Lance’s head in her lap, her hands behind his ears. Her fingers worked small circles into his scalp. His eyes never drifted, wide and still, swallowed by the sky.

Keith swallowed. He sat down next to Pidge on his newly healed legs. He pressed his hand to Lance’s chest, feeling the heartbeat beneath his bare skin getting gradually slower. The Goddess stood behind him, her thin fingers digging into Keith’s shoulders.

“Now,” she said. “Let your intention flow. Cleanse the death, pull it from his body.”

The five of them closed their eyes, hands spread wide on Lance’s skin. He could feel power begin to radiate from the Goddess, waves of it rushing through his body and over the other’s. Keith breathed in deeply, filling his lungs with the scent of wet earth and rain. Raindrops slapped against the back of his hand and stuck to his eyelashes, dripping down onto his cheeks, but he focused himself in the moment.

He thought about nothing other than Lance. He thought about those nights spent in the crow’s nest, Lance’s eyes counting all the stars he could see, his tail splashing in the tub, his lips grazing Keith’s skin. He thought about the way Lance looked at the sea, with so much love and longing. He wanted to see it all again. He wanted to see more. He wanted to be with Lance and see every smile, notice every emotion, learn every movement his body could make.

He felt something drifting down his wrist, tingling at his fingertips. He opened his eyes to look down at his hands. Rivulets of blue energy pulsed beneath his skin, flowing into Lance’s body as he gave him some of his life. His hands glowed blue, in the same way that he had seen Lance’s do. When he looked at his friend’s hands, they were doing the same thing.

It was hard to tell in the rain, but he was pretty sure tears were streaming down Pidge’s face. Allura’s head was bowed, her face pinched in concentration. Hunk’s lips moved in silent prayer. Shiro looked calm, his eyes closed, hands glowing, but every once and a while, his fingers would stroke the dark blue plates on Lance’s tail, almost reassuringly.

Lance’s eyes had closed, but Keith could feel his heart beginning to beat faster. His chest heaved as he gasped, sucking in air. His eyes flew open and he let out a little shriek, startling the other’s into opening their eyes.

His eyes were no longer stained with grey. Instead, the color was deeper than the ocean, and just as many colors. It was almost shifting, always moving, a million colors blended into one. The rain still fell, darkening the color of his hair and dripping down his skin, but the sun had fought the clouds, breaking through the barrier they created. In the sunlight, his brown skin was gilded gold.

“Keith,”

Hearing his voice, watching his lips move was too much for Keith. He lurched forwards, and Lance met him halfway. Their lips crashed together and their kiss raged like battle. It was intense, a sharp thing, like two blades meeting. It was full of desperation and urgency, the emotion of ‘I never thought I’d get to do this again.'

It morphed into something gentler as their foreheads pressed together, and their lips brushed together. They savored the feeling of each other’s breath against their lips, the warmth of their bodies pressed together. Lance cupped Keith’s cheek with one hand, his other fisted in Keith’s shirt. Keith rubbed the marking under his eye with his thumb. He tried not to smile as he saw Lance’s ears twitch upwards. His fingers travelled across his skin, rubbing the length of his notched ear. Lance pulled away, gasping as his ears twitched again.

Keith laughed, feeling Lance’s chest jerk upwards as he gasped. Lance blew air in his face in retaliation, but that just made Keith laugh more. He had a laugh like a waterfall. It spilled out from his lips, steady and loud, and just as beautiful. Lance grinned fondly until he was infected and found himself laughing alongside him, burying his face into Keith’s shoulder.

Lance could feel the laughter in his lungs, stealing what little air he had away. It was hard to believe that a few minutes ago he had been barely conscious, his vision blurring the greys of the sky together, his chest tight, his limbs numb. It was even harder to believe that the boy whose chest was shaking as he laughed, whose fingers were threaded in his hair, had been so far gone Lance had thought he wouldn’t be able to steal him from the grave.

As Keith’s splutter of laughter calmed, Lance pulled away, his arms still wrapped around his shoulders. He looked into Keith’s shining eyes.

“I love you,” He said. “I hope you know that you captured my heart.”

Keith’s face turned seven shades of red as he looked down at Lance. “I captured your heart?” He pressed a hand to his face, slinking into himself in embarrassment. “I think you captured mine long before that. I love you, too.” He coughed.

Lance chortled with laughter, squeezing Keith’s chest even tighter.

“Aww, you guys are so cute!” Hunk exclaimed. If it was even possible, Keith’s face turned even redder as he remembered that they had an audience. Of course, Lance noticed.

“Yeah, isn’t he just the cutest!” Lance pulled Keith closer to him, almost knocking heads. He wore the biggest shit-eating grin on his lips.

Keith pushed him away. “I take what I just said back.”

Lance wailed as Pidge laughed. When he looked at Keith pleadingly, Keith rolled his eyes, but took his hand. Instantly, Lance beamed at him.

“How did you save me?” Lance asked. “There was just...nothing… and then suddenly you all were there.”

“I used my wish to save you. The Goddess helped grant it in your place.”

“The Goddess?” Lance asked, furrowing his brow.

“Yeah, she,” Keith faltered, looking around. “She’s gone now, but she gave us the ability to heal you.”

Lance looked at him in disbelief. “Keith Kogane, you really are something else.”

Thace offered a hand to the boys. “Do you think you guys can move?”

“I think so,” Keith said, experimentally moving his leg. “I feel fine. Can you shift into your human form, Lance?”

Lance frowned, furrowing his eyebrows in concentration. He was silent for a minute, and then his scales started to fade, his gills smoothing out into the brown skin of his torso. His tail split into legs. “Yep, all good here, I feel like a new man.”

Thace and Hunk helped each of them up, but Lance and Keith never untwined their fingers. Shiro and Allura were standing off to the side, leaning heavily on one another.

“Shiro?” Keith said again, a little steadier this time.

Shiro’s head jerked upwards at the sound of Keith’s voice. His eyes were no longer yellow. Instead, they had reverted to their natural brown color.

“Keith,” he said. “Keith, I never thought I’d see you again.”

“Me too,” Keith said. “I spent so much time looking for you. I found so many dead ends.” He sniffed. Shiro wrapped his arms around him, pulling him closer. Keith could feel the coldness of his mechanical arm through his shirt. “I’m sorry that I was too late.”

Shiro pulled away slightly, enough that he could look at Keith’s face. “You’re not too late. I lost my arm, not my life,” He said gently. “Thank you for coming.”

He let go, ruffling Keith’s hair before he turned to the rest of the group. “Thank you all for coming. Sorry I tried to fight you guys.”

“Hey, it’s cool. You were like, possessed or something,” Hunk said. “I’m just relieved that everyone’s okay and back together again.”

“There are other matters to address, however,” Thace said.

The group turned to face him. His face was dry now, his expression almost grave in the midst of their reunion.

“Galra still needs a ruler. Most of the people were betting on Lotor, but…” he glanced over to where Lotor had been. He was no longer there, so Lance assumed that one of his former generals had taken pity on him and taken him to the infirmary.

Around them, bodies littered the ground below the stairs. Weapons were tossed every which way. There was a lot fewer people now, since most were incapacitated. A few had given up and ran from the field. The final few continued to duke it out with Blade members, paying no mind to the crew of pirates standing to the side.

Keith sighed, his shoulders sagging. “I know that none of these men are good leaders, but neither am I. There’s a reason I told Haggar that I would never take the throne, and it’s not just because I had no desire to be her puppet. I have no idea how to be a good leader.”

Thace placed a hand on Keith’s shoulder. “You’re the captain of a pirate crew, and you think you have no leadership skills?”

“Keith, I know what you’re capable of - if you learn to apply yourself.”

Keith looked from Thace to Shiro. Lance gave his hand a quick squeeze to remind him that everything would be okay. Keith squeezed back, taking a deep breath.

“But that’s just it. I’m a pirate. I left Galra because I was miserable here. Yes, I am a prince, but no one ever treated me like one. My father hated me, his officials don’t respect me, and I don’t even know how to help the people. Galra has issues so deeply ingrained, like its slave trade and force of control over the empire that I don’t even know where to begin.”

Thace opened his mouth to protest, but Keith lifted a hand to stop him.

“But I know someone who would know.”

“Who?” Thace questioned, his brow furrowing.

Keith gave a small smile. “You. You’ve been a spy for the Blade for as long as I remember. You know how the inner functions of the castle work, but you’re not royalty. You understand the struggles of the people, because you are one.”

“But that doesn’t mean I know everything! I’m certainly not fit to rule,” Thace argued.

“You know,” Keith said thoughtfully. “You were always very good at convincing Kolivan to do things. I bet you could convince him to help you rule. A co-leadership sort of thing. He practically leads half the country already if you consider the Blade. And he’s more knowledgeable about Galra’s flaws than anyone. I’m sure the two of you could come up with great solutions to all of its problems.”

“That’s going to be fun to explain to him,” Thace regarded him carefully, looking Keith over. “If you ever decide that you want to rule Galra, the spot will be open for you. A peaceful transfer of power, if you will. I still expect you to come visit me, though.”

Keith grinned, going in for a hug. The two embraced, Keith’s face nuzzled into Thace’s chest. Thace tightened his arms around Keith’s back.

Thace released him, walking to the pit and lighting a torch. None of the fighters seemed to notice as the Blade members kept them occupied.

“If this is to be a co-leadership, will you take a torch in Kolivan’s place?”

Keith hesitated, but after a moment he nodded. He sent a fleeting look at Lance before letting go of his hand and picking up his own torch. Together, Thace and Keith ascended the stairs with their torches held high in their hands. At the top of the stairs, there was a basin.

Thace smiled at him as he lowered his torch into the basin. “To friends, better things, and the future,” he said. Keith lowered his own.

“To the future,” he repeated.

The fire filled the basin, running down a ramp that attached it to the statue, until the center of the statue was alight with the flame. By whatever magic that created the statue, the flame twisted around itself, writhing like a living beast. It turned into two separate colors, unifying into one fire.

When the pair turned around, the battlefield below them had gone silent. Their weapons lowered and their fights forgotten, the warriors all stared at the flame blazing within the statue.

As a unified form, all of the Galra bowed on their knees.  
“Vrepit sa,” they all said in unison.

With that, the Kral Zera had ended.

The crew was waiting patiently at the bottom of the stairs for Thace and Keith to return. As Keith passed by, Shiro patted him on the back, and Allura told him that they had done a great job. Keith intertwined his hand with Lance’s again, smiling at the beautiful mer that he was hopelessly in love with.

“Come on guys, let’s go home.”

Together, they set off towards the _Red Lion_.  
*  
“I still can’t believe you changed the name of my ship,” Shiro said.

“She’s a pirate ship, Shiro. A rogue ship, if you will. She couldn’t keep the name she had as a vessel of Altea.”

“Fair,” Shiro agreed. “But didn’t you think that Altea would want their ship back?”

Keith opened his mouth, but when he couldn’t find a reply, his face fell.

Shiro ran a hand through his newly cut hair. It was no longer limp and unhealthy looking, but instead shorn back to the length it had been before he had been captured. He was still getting used to the shock of white hair at the front. “Sorry,” he said quietly. “I didn’t mean to dash your plans.”

Allura had been sitting quietly off to the side, polishing her sword, taking care especially around the engraving that lined the blade. She sheathed her sword, standing.

“Don’t worry about it, you two. When I return to Altea, I’ll commission the shipwright to make an upgraded version of _the Voltron_.” She winked. “If I play my cards right, maybe he’ll give it to me as a gift for my 26th birthday.”

“You mean it?” Keith asked, his eyes wide.

Allura nodded. “Keith, you basically gave up your crown for this ship and it’s crew. It doesn’t belong to Altea anymore.”

Lance grabbed Keith’s hand, twisting it in his. “Now your home is the sea, just like mine!”  
“I don’t know if living on a pirate ship is the same as being a mermaid,” Keith said. “I feel like your family might not approve of that comparison.”

“Hmm, it’s definitely not the same, but I don’t think my family will mind. They’re gonna love you! I love you, and they’re all related to me, so that’s just how it is.”

“I don’t know Keith, I would be scared.” Allura said, grinning. “More people like Lance, that is a scary thought indeed,”

“Hey!” Lance said indignantly.

The crew laughed, and Allura gave Lance an apologetic smile. He stuck his tongue out at her in response.

“Hey, what are you guys up to?”

Hunk climbed aboard the _Red Lion_ , carrying various bags. The crew had sailed to Altea, to bring the princess back to her country. Hunk had gone to run some errands, but Allura and Coran had wanted to enjoy their remaining time with their friends.

“Nothing much. I was wondering if you got lost,” Pidge teased. “Finish mailing your letters to your _girlfriend_?”

Hunk blushed just as much as he always did when someone mentioned Shay, but he clasped his hands together and smiled lovingly.

“Yup. I filled her in on everything that’s happened, and man, it’s a lot. Took me forever to get everything down. She’ll be glad to know that everybody’s okay though.”

Lance stepped forwards, leaning towards Hunk conspiratorially. “Did you get it?” He whispered.

Hunk pulled a bundle out from under his arm, grinning as he handed it to Lance.

“What is that?” Allura asked.

“It’s uh… a gift…” Lance said, red-faced. He looked at the ground, thrusting the package towards Keith.

Keith blinked. “For me?”

He took the package and unwrapped it carefully. A square of fabric was folded inside, but as he unfolded it he gasped.

Inside was a waist length coat, the red coloring as vivid as the sky moments before the sun set. Gold embroidery wound along the sleeves and collar, elegantly embellishing the jacket. It was beautifully crafted, but even more than that, Keith had seen one just like it before. A jacket in the exact same style, except in black, hung on the handle of the dresser tucked away in the captain’s quarters.

“I did some research. And by research, I mean I asked Hunk. That was Shiro’s captain jacket, right? Now that you’re also a captain, I thought…” Lance spread his arms out.

Keith stared at the cloth in his hands, his eyes flickering back up to Lance.

“I’m sorry,” Lance stammered. “It doesn’t mean anything, I just..”

Keith peeked up at him from his fingertips. “No, fishbrain, I love it.” Rather abruptly, he shoved his arms through the holes, flattening the collar.

The crew ooed and awed as he adjusted the jacket accordingly.

“That looks great,” Allura said, clapping her hands together. She turned to Shiro. “I still remember the day you got yours.”

Lance couldn’t take his eyes off Keith. As Allura had pointed out, he looked great. And he did. The red flashed boldly between the paleness of his skin and darkness of his hair. It brought out the purplish-grey in his eyes, like the water under a full moon. He was beautiful and stunning.

Sensing his stare, Keith turned to him. He looked at Lance through his lashes, licking his lips. Lance grabbed him by the sleeve of his jacket and dragged him in for a kiss. His eyes fluttered shut as their lips met. Lance pulled away, hovering an inch from his ear.

“You look amazing,” he breathed.

“All thanks to you,” Keith whispered back.

Someone coughed behind them and the two split a bit sheepishly.

“Are you ready to be stuck in the middle of the ocean with no one but each other and these two lovebirds?” Hunk asked.

“Oh god, I didn't even think about that. Maybe I should throw myself overboard now.” Pidge replied.

Keith smirked at her. “You know you love it,”

Lance narrowed his eyes. “Why are we lovebirds? I don’t know about Keith, but _I_ can’t turn into a bird.”

Hunk stifled a laugh. “Common expression.”

Allura glanced at Coran and Shiro, who both nodded at her. She clasped her hands behind her, twisting her hands together.

“I guess this is where we part.”

“Guess so,” Keith said. “Thanks for the ship, and all the help.”

She smiled. “Anytime you need me, I’ll be there. I hope you’ll come visit in the future.”

“Oh, absolutely.” Hunk said. “Next time, you’ll have to show me all the best restaurants here. I heard there are some amazing cooks in Altea.”

“There are some great scientists that you’d be interested in Pidge. Next time you’re here, I’ll take you to meet them.” Coran said.

“Cool!” Pidge exclaimed. “God, I’m going to miss you guys.”

“We’ll miss you too, Pidge.” Shiro said, ruffling her hair.

“You’re going too, Shiro?” Keith asked, biting his lip. “You could stay if you wanted.”

Shiro looked around his former ship fondly, running his hand over the wooden railing. “Thanks, but I think I’m going to return to my position as commander. Sailing with you guys has been fun, even if only for a short time, and you’re all like family to me, but I think I could use some normality in my life right now.”

Allura clicked her tongue. “You’re crazy if you think I’m letting you go right back into combat. You’ve been missing and tortured for months! If you insist on going straight back to work, you’re not getting anything more than castle guard duty for a while.”

He smiled at her, pushing his shock of white hair away from his face as he chuckled. “I think I can handle that.”

He pulled Keith to his chest in a hug and Keith relaxed into his touch, enjoying the warmth and breathing deeply. He tried to memorize the feeling, of the security and love. Shiro squeezed tighter before letting go. Hugs were one of the rare times that Shiro used both of his hands.

After a few days, Keith had realized that he didn’t mind Shiro’s robotic arm at all. It was something that Shiro still struggled with, and something that he needed to get used to, but it was just a part of Shiro now. Shiro was back, and well for the most part. Everything would be okay.  
The group exchanged the last of their hugs, wishing everyone well and promising to visit. And Keith knew that they would. Somehow, in just a few weeks, the crew had become indescribably close. No matter where they went, what they did, they would always be his crew. They would always be his family.

With the loss of three members, Keith wanted to say the _Red Lion_ was quieter than usual, but it wasn’t. He had taken the three loudest members with him, who seemed determined to fill the silence with as much life as possible. There was always a conversation to be had, a joke to be made, a hand to rely on for support.

One night, Keith had been lying in the crow’s nest looking up at the stars. Lance popped his head through the hole, and when he saw Keith, he settled down next to him.

“Hey you,” Lance said, poking his side. “What are you thinking about?”

“You.” Keith said. Lance flushed.

“What do you mean?”

Keith rolled over, nuzzling his face into Lance. “You’re going home.”

Lance smiled, twisting a strand of Keith’s hair between his fingers. “Is that not a good thing?”

Keith bit his lip and sat up suddenly.

“I know I promised that I would get you back to your family, but...” he swallowed, “I want you to stay. Except I already used my wish, and now that you’ve gained your freedom again, I doubt you’d want…”

Lance took his face in his hands, pulling him closer until their noses were bumping.

“I love my family, and I need to see them. But you’re my home now too. Of course I’ll stay, no wish needed.”

  
*

  
Since the next order of business was bringing Lance home, they navigated their way back to the island they had found him on. They had approached the island carefully, on the lookout for any Galran squadron that might be stationed, but with the death of Zarkon and the new leadership of Thace and Kolivan, it appeared that the troops had pulled out.

Hunk and Pidge watched the ship, allowing Keith and Lance some privacy to visit Lance’s family.

“Okay, but I fully expect to meet them in the future,” Hunk said. “You get a pass this time because they haven’t seen you in so long and I’m not good with emotional things. I always cry.”

“Of course, buddy, there’s no way I wouldn’t introduce my best friend to my family. They’re gonna love you!”

Hunk’s smile shone brighter than the light of a thousand stars.

“You’ll have to share more stories when you come back. I want to hear more about your mom.” Pidge requested.

“Totally. There’s a bunch of great stories about her.”

They had set out cautiously, not really sure what to expect. Now that Keith wasn’t running for his life, he took the time to look around him. The trees towered above, every different kind imaginable, hiding the forest floor from the sun. At one point, the boys had to walk very slowly as they passed a family of deer. Considering how much life was teeming inside the forest, it was almost surprising how quiet and serene it was.

Lance could still see the places where the Galran soldiers had crashed through the trees, chopping them down and carving their own paths, taking the forest by force and part of him shuddered remembering the terror of that day. But the other part of him was comforted by the forest’s ability to adapt and regrow. Small animals had made homes out of the broken trees and plant life had begun to grow in place of the destruction.

“I can’t believe we’re here!” Lance exclaimed. Despite the somber memories his island now carried for him, the excitement of seeing his family was almost too much for him to contain. He had practically been running around the ship, jumping from the masts.

Keith had sent him to swab the deck to release some of his pent up energy, and he had even done some of it manually, but now that he was here, all of the nerves were back and he felt re-energized by the island. He jogged ahead of Keith, leaping over rocks.

“I did promise that I would get you home,” Keith said. His own nerves were getting to him, but in a different way than Lance’s. He kept wiping his palms on his pants, but they still felt sweaty.

When they reached the beach, they were met with the sound of the waves crashing against the shore, and the sky stretching as far as it could along the horizon, but there were no horses. The men had slaughtered and killed all of the Goddess’ sacred horses and nothing saddened Lance more.

Lance dug his toes into the sand, staring up at the clouds and listening to the waves happily jump against the shore. He had worried that he would never come back, and now here he was, standing on the beach that he had been on so many times before.

“Lance,” Keith whispered, tugging at his arm. “Look over there,”

Lance looked where Keith was directing him and he almost couldn’t believe it. Rolling in the waves, was a pure white horse. She stood up, water dripping from her coat as if she had been born from the waves. She snorted at him, pawing the waves as they lapped around her hooves.

She neighed loudly, and in the distance, another horse replied. Even when Lance turned and couldn’t find any other horses, he smiled. Maybe there was hope that there would be horses again. The mare shook the water from her mane, trotting a little farther down the beach.

Lance blinked as he noticed that there were two woman standing on the beach, facing the ocean. One was wearing a red robe that must’ve been much too hot considering how the heat radiated from the sand. The other had skin darker than sand, and hair that cascaded down her shoulders like a waterfall. Her white sundress blew gently in the breeze as the two swung their intertwined hands back and forth. The mare stopped in front of them, blocking Lance’s line of sight. When he blinked again, the two women were gone, but he could have sworn that heard the tinkling of laughter.

Keith and Lance walked to the water’s edge. Keith kicked off his shoes, carrying them on the fingertips of one hand. With his other hand, he firmly grasped Lance’s hand. They walked in silence for a minute, just enjoying one another’s company before Lance stopped.

“I might be a little while. They’ve only had one letter from me after all this time, and on top of that, what can I say, they like to talk.”

“Now I know where you get it from,” Keith joked. Lance made a face and he laughed. “Kidding. But really, take your time. I’ll be here, being anxious until you bring your family to meet me.”

“You really don’t need to worry about it. I already told them all about you. They’re going to love you!”

“I know, but I can’t just _stop worrying about it_. They’re your _family_.”

Lance laughed. “But you’ll be here? No running away?”

“I’ll be here,” Keith muttered. “Promise.”

He leaned in to give him a chaste peck on the lips, but Lance threaded his fingers through Keith’s hair, pulling him closer and deepening the kiss into something more passionate. Breathless, they pulled apart, chests heaving. Lance leaned over and softly kissed Keith’s skin, starting at his ear down to his neck. Keith let out a moan, and was consequently sure that he had turned the color of cherries, but with the way Lance shuddered, he found that he didn’t mind too much.

He rubbed his fingers into Lance’s bare back, pulling him closer until there was no space left between them, and all he could feel was Lance’s breath on his neck and his heart beating against his chest.

Lance trailed the whisper of kisses along his skin until he reached his mouth again. His lips were warm against Keith’s, with the faintest taste of salt, like being on the deck of the Red Lion on a sunny afternoon. Like being at home.

“Promise you’ll come back?” Keith whispered, caressing his cheek.

Lance squeezed his hand. “Promise.”

He waded into the water up to his waist, and then let his human form fall away, easily shifting back into his natural form. His fingers rubbed against the length of his tail, where two gaps in his tail had started to scab over. He would always carry the white lines of scars on his tail, but he was healing, slowly, but surely. With a flourish of his tail, he dove under the waves, diving into the depths, back to his home.

His other home waited patiently on shore, hands dug into the sand, watching the clouds pass as the colors of the sky slowly shifted, sweeping the reds and blues together into a brilliant shade of purple.

In the early hours of the morning, the moon was faintly reflected in the surface of the sea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We made it guys! Please leave your thoughts, feelings, and comments I would love to know what you thought! (We can cry together)
> 
> If you make any fanart, make sure you tag it "spoondrift"!
> 
> Come chat on my tumblr: [celestial-caster](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/celestial-caster)  
> Go reblog the fantastic art throughout the chapters from: [saltwater-paladin](https://saltwater-paladin.tumblr.com/)

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to this shipwreck everyone. 
> 
> Also a general note, with SYWLG, I was updating twice a week. Sadly, I'm back in school, as well as Holden, so let's test out bi-weekly updates for now.
> 
> If you have questions, comments, or general chats, you can find me at [Celestial-Caster](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/celestial-caster)
> 
> Also please don't repost the art! Instead, reblog it from Holden's lovely face over here: [Saltwater-paladin](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/saltwater-paladin)  
> Go chat with him and force him into making art for me <3<3


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